The Disney Games
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: The Disney Villains are ruling over the desolate country of Disney. They have organized the Disney Games for the 12 districts. Join many Disney characters as they're Reaped, interviewed, trained and thrown into the horrible arena. 24 go in, 1 comes out. AU, all Disney characters are human. God bless you!
1. Penny

**Thank you, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. I got this idea a couple of days ago and it's just been buzzing around in my head and I have it all planned. Each chapter shall be from the PoV of one of the tributes, meaning 24 chapters. This first chapter is Penny from Bolt. **

I wake up in a cold sweat, letting out a loud cry. I pant and toss off the covers. From beside me, I hear my pets, and I turn to see my dog, Bolt, and my very scrawny cat, Mittens, looking at me with worried expressions. Rhino is watching as well, looking scared in his plastic ball.

Still panting, I swing my legs over the side of my bed. Bolt puts a paw on my lap and whimpers, worried. I whisper, "Bad dream, Bolt," and I run into my mom's room.

I don't find her amongst her small bed and dresser. I panic.

I run into the kitchen, yelling, "Mom?" I sigh in relief when I see her making bread from the hard grain we get. She takes one look at me and immediately puts down the bread.

"Penny, dear, what happened?" she says as I run into her arms. I try not to, but tears start to stream down my face.

"I had a nightmare," I whisper.

"Oh," she says comfortingly. "About the Reaping?"

"Yes," I rasp. The Reaping. Today will be my first Reaping. I turned twelve just a few weeks ago; I've been plagued by nightmares ever since. The fear of the actuality of getting chosen is crippling; I cannot think of killing people, being killed myself. I don't want to die; I don't want to leave my mom, or my pets, or District 10.

Well, I DO want to leave District 10, to a certain degree. It isn't exactly paradise. It never has been. Helping with the livestock to help supplement the household hasn't been exactly nice. I like animals, I like animals a lot, but I don't like District 10.

I don't like the Capitol either; nobody does. Ever since the Rebellion some odd years ago, the Disney Games came about. The rulers of Disney, our disintegrating country, is ruled by a pantheon of evil looking people. Madam Cruella de Vil, Governor Ratcliffe, the Royal Disney Parliament, all scary and evil. Very evil.

I sigh sadly and my mom pats my back.

"It won't be so bad," she says as calmly as she can, even though she can barely contain herself. "You have one slip in thousands. You barely have a chance." Mom wouldn't let me take a tessera, and I'm glad. The thought of my name swimming around there more than once would make this day even worse.

"But there's still a chance I can get chosen," I whisper. I sigh harder, making it sound like I'm stifling a sob. I can't even bear thinking that I'll have to go through this day five more times in the future. That is, if I don't get picked this time.

"You'll be fine. There's plenty of other kids," Mom says.

I swallow and digging my head deeper into her shoulder, I whisper, "I don't want to die."

"I know, I know. I'm-I'm sure that Bagheera and Mufasa won't let you," she says, tears evident in her voice. (Bagheera and Mufasa are District 10's mentors at the moment. I don't see much of them; they stay pretty hidden in their houses in Victor's Village.) She pulls back after a moment and tucks my hair behind my ears. "In the meantime, let's make the best of it. Have some breakfast and then you can play with your pets."

"Don't you want me to herd the cows for Ms. Gesner?" I ask. That's what I usually do each morning.

"No, you'll be all right." She sighs and adds, "Not too many people are working today."

I nod and we eat. Bolt's licking from his bowl of water and snuggles against my legs. He looks up with a begging sort of look (I'm certain that Mittens is making a sort of smug face), and I give him a bit of carrot that we have. We don't have much; we have a tiny garden that grows very small vegetables. The carrots are Bolt's favorite. I like to spoil him sometimes.

I pat his head and Mittens leaps onto my lap. I laugh and get off of my chair. We walk out onto our bleak porch, which has nothing more than a couple of crumbling rocking chairs.

I settle in one and Bolt jumps into the other. Mitten jumps onto my lap and Rhino hurries after us. I grab his ball and balance him on Mittens's head. Smiling softly, I look out over the street.

It's dank and dirty. No one's outside; everyone's hiding in their houses, watching their kids for what may be the last time. All that's outside are Mr. and Mrs. Ratcliffe's dalmatians. They literally have over a hundred of them. I haven't a clue how they feed them. Most everyone around here is poor. The mayor, Turkey Lurkey, isn't that poor. He stays up in that big white house a couple of hundred yards from the square. The square that will change many people's lives today.

I sigh and lean back against the chair. Bolt whimpers again and my hand finds his head and I start petting him. District 10 isn't good to small animals running around, even if we are known for livestock. I remember finding Bolt at the edge of our garden, chewing on a carrot. Mom let me have him once I pleaded and begged.

I got Mittens when Bolt brought her home. He won Mom and I over with his begging look. Rhino just appeared one day, watching Bolt's every move and imitating him. I knew I had to keep him. They're my company around here, playing with me when I'm not working.

I sit here all morning. Occasionally someone comes walking down the street, wishing me luck. Widow Tweed, Mr. Cluck, Winston, walking along with little Jenny Foxworth, who is only eight-years-old. I wave at her and she waves back at me, a sad smile on her face as she passes. I envy her for not having to feel this fear and anxiety just yet.

It's twelve o'clock and Mom comes to get me for lunch. We have a hard grain porridge and then I take a bath. I don't normally take baths: they take too long, they require lots of hot water, which takes a lot of time to fetch. I have to go out by the stream that runs by the fence a few yards away and get the water myself. My arms are tired already and my arms and legs soaking. I don't really see the point of taking a bath, but Mom makes one up anyway.

I scrub myself down the best that I can (I'll forever smell like animals, I decide), and then rub myself down with a towel.

I head to my bed (I washed in a tiny little room off the side that holds supplies and stuff, though it's quite empty at the moment), and discover my Reaping dress. I gasp happily, surprised, and hold it up. It's a red dress that runs straight down to my knees. It has red sleeves and is all the same shade. Along with it white tights and my old boots, softened with oil and shiny. I'm definitely going to stand out in the Reaping. Not much around here has this much color.

I hear my mom in the doorway and turn to see her smiling. Her smile is sad, but brightens at the sight of my face.

"Do you like it?" she asks.

For an answer, I run to her and hug her as hard as I can.

"I love it," I say.

"I'm glad you do," she says and she brushes my red, wet hair out of my face. "Everyone needs to look nice on Reaping Day. I'll leave so you can dress then."

I slip on the new clothes. The cloth is not as soft as Mom makes it look, but it feels like silk against my skin. Mittens watches as I tug on my new tights and shoes. I stand up and grab a brush before turning to Mittens and I ask, "How do I look?"

I can actually tell that her eyes are sad as she gives me a thumb's up. I smile and rub her head before heading out into the small kitchen.

Mom brushes my short, straight hair, and she takes ten minutes to do so. I know it takes a little less than a minute for me to brush my hair, but I know that she likes doing it, and it makes her feel better.

She finally sighs and puts the brush down.

"I guess it's time to go to the square," she says quietly.

I gulp and nod. I turn to her and ask, "Can I take Bolt to watch?"

Mom smiles sadly and says gently, "No. Sweetie, there will be thousands of people there. He could get lost."

I look down at the ground and nod. She pats my back sympathetically and calls for my animals to come see me, maybe for the last time.

I hug Mittens as tightly as I can, squeezing her skinny body against mine. I finally pat her head and turn to Rhino. I open his ball and he crawls all around me and onto my shoulder, rubbing his head against my neck. I smile and turn to Bolt, who looks terribly sad.

He crawls into my lap, whimpering, and I just spend five minutes holding him before Mom sighs and says, "It's time to go, Penny."

I nod silently and let my animals slip off of me. Mom and I head to the front door, my pets following us.

Mom goes first, but I stand in the doorway, watching my three pets; Bolt, Mittens and Rhino, my friends. They all watch me sadly and I say quietly, "Goodbye," before I close the door and head outside with my mom.

She's watching me and she puts her arm on my shoulder as I let out a heavy sigh, covering a sob. She whispers comforting words as we walk down the dirty street toward the square.

Towards the reaping. Towards the end of my life.

**And there's the first chapter! I hope you liked it and please, review!**


	2. Aladdin

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Disney or the Hunger Games. Thank you for the reviews! YOU ARE ALL SO AWESOME IT CANNOT BE EXPLAINED IN WORDS. Here's the next chappie, in the PoV of . . . . . . Aladdin!**

I walk slowly and carefully around the bakery. I need perfect silence if I want to get my job done. Being a thief here in District 2 isn't easy, but hey, it's a better district to steal from than others, for District 2 is better off. Being better off means better quality things to steal. Stealing, of course, is against the law, and if caught, you can be punished by whipping or worse, death.

Sounds bad, I know, but that's what life here in the districts is like. I'm Aladdin, and I'm a thief in District 2. You'd think that stealing is hard around here, but it's only hard when A., it's your first time, and B., you get caught.

Which, because of my thoughts filling my mind instead of concentrating, is what happens to me.

I have Abu, my best monkey friend (my only friend as well), working as a lookout. He's supposed to let me know when the guards (Peacekeepers are their real names, but they are guards. They keep us inside of our district. Leaving without permission is also against the law), come around.

I sneak into the bakery and at once, snatch a baguette, still warm. I'm slightly surprised that the bakery is even open. It's Reaping Day, and most everyone and everything is turned off and doesn't work today. Still, it's nice for me, and seeing no one watching me, I sneak outside.

I sneak around the corner to look for Abu and I dare, "Abu!"

And I see my pal suffocating in the hands of the Peacekeepers.

The next second, the bread is plucked out of my hands and I'm caught with large orange-ish arms.

"Caught him!" says one of them.

I know that they're all very excited to see me. I've been on their wanted list for a long time, I know. And all I can yell in respite as I struggle against strong arms is, "All this for a loaf of bread?"

The tallest one, the leader, steps closer so that I can smell his nasty breath and see his buck teeth.

"Oh, it's for much more than that," he hisses. He stands straighter and yells to his men, "Take him to the Justice Building!"

One called, "We can't. That's where the Reaping is being placed."

"Hmm, you're right," the Head Peacekeeper says, stroking his chin. He then stops, and looks straight at me, and an evil grin comes over him.

"How old is this street rat?" he says to no one in particular.

I stop struggling. I'm eighteen. What if-?

"Eighteen, sir. It's on his file," says one of his cronies, and the leader's grin grows bigger.

He yells to the man who is trying to hold me back, "Take him down to the Reaping. If his name doesn't get picked, it's off to the gallows with you, boy!" and he spits in my face.

I contort a disgusted face as I am dragged away. The Head Peacekeeper folds his arms and yells, "And make sure that he doesn't make a run for it."

Like I can with my arms twisted around my back. I'm dragged away and I yell, "Abu!" but I can't see the little monkey anywhere. What did they do to him? Stray animals weren't exactly liked around here.

I gulp and try to think and see if there is any way that I can get away. The strong arms holding me stop those plans from forming quick enough, and my trapper yells, "Hold still, boy!"

We're now near the square where the Reaping is going to be. Every Reaping takes place there.

My big trapper makes all the teens and kids part a ways as he takes me to the registration table. They ask my name, and I struggle one moment before I spit it out. They look at each other, the Peacekeepers, and then wave me off.

I get taken over to where the eighteen-year-old boys are taken. My captor plops me next to some and then crosses the lines out of the marked off area. He stays there to make sure that I don't escape.

If I had any chance of escaping, it's gone now. Peacekeepers are everywhere, and so are the cameras. If I tried to make a run for it, I'd be caught in an instant.

I groan to myself. I have now basically no chance of survival. To add to the fact that I might get my name pulled and if it doesn't I'm still going to get killed, I have a little secret:

I've only been in one Reaping before.

It was horrible, my first Reaping Day. Ever since I was thirteen, I've been clever enough to evade attention and not get forced into it like I am now. If only I were able to hold it for one more year, I'd be free.

If only.

I sigh and look at the people around me. We're one of the better off districts. We're actually called the Career Districts: 1, 2, and 4 are. Since we get better treatment from the Capitol, we have stronger boys and girls to go murder other humans. They say that the kids start training as soon as they can for the Games. I don't. I've never thought I'd actually be called into the Games.

Everyone around me, to my surprise, looks energetic, as if they were anticipating the Reaping to start. There were some girls that looked like it was their first year that looked nervous, but the rest of the girls looked set and determined.

I'm worried, of course, but try not to show it, for the cameras are watching our every move.

My thoughts are interrupted when I look over to the stage. On the white platform are four chairs. On one is our mayor, Sultan; the next two has our mentors, the ones who train the tributes of District 2 to win. One's John Smith, who won a few years back, and Thomas Bale, who just won last year. He is only nineteen, and it's showing, for his red hair is barely covering his babyish face.

In the next chair is District 2's escort; a man by the name of Wiggins. He is wearing a ridiculous ponytail and is powdering his face.

The atmosphere grows tenser, for everyone is roped in and stops talking. My palms start to sweat as our pudgy little mayor stands up. A Peacekeeper hurries up and lowers the microphone so that he doesn't have to stretch several feet.

"Oh, yes, thank you," Mayor Sultan says. He taps the microphone with his finger, making a loud ringing noise. Not everyone covers their ears; we instead cringe as he babbles, "Oh, sorry about that.

"Now," he continues, "it is time for the story of the Dark Days."

And so he reads. I don't listen, for I don't care about what had happened a long time ago. I care about what's happening NOW.

He finishes with, "And now, I'd like to introduce you to our district's escort, Wiggins!"

Mayor Sultan claps and Wiggins takes the stage.

He uses his hands to cup his hair as the same Peacekeeper makes the microphone taller.

"Yes, thank you," he says pleasantly in his accented voice before turning to the microphone.

"Happy Hunger Games!" he says excitedly, clapping his hands. He smiles as he adds, "And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

Oh, yes. The odds haven't exactly been in my favor of late, considering I got caught stealing red handed, my best friend is nowhere to be seen and I'm in a place where I can be chosen to die for people's entertainment. Stupid odds.

"Ladies first, of course," he says. He walks in his unusual style (his hands become balls and he's on his tiptoes), over to the clear ball filled with several white slips. I have no clue how many slips are in there with names. I wonder if girls put theirs in more for what people call tesserae (for each slip that goes in with your name, you get a small meager ration. I haven't done it because I don't want my name in there more than it already has. Just because I've only been present to the Reaping once before doesn't mean that they haven't been keeping an eye on me. I've been managing to slip away from people's grasps for years. I'm surprised I haven't been shot yet). I don't think so, because nobody here is starving to death, except, of course, street rats like myself.

The air gets tense as Wiggins opens a little clear hole in the clear ball and sticks his hand inside. His hand hovers over the papers for a moment before he plunges his hand gleefully into the bottom. His hand comes up with a paper, and he hurries back to the microphone.

"Now, who could it be this year?" he says, more to himself, for no one is going to answer him. He opens the slip and his eyes light up as he looks over toward the girls.

"Jasmine Sultan!" he cries.

A pit forms in my stomach. The first tribute. I turn to see the girls in the eighteen-year-old crowd part to the right and left, leaving one distinct girl in the center, looking on with a mixture of horror and astonishment.

My jaw drops as she takes a deep breath and calms down as she heads to the center of the square, which is cleared so that people can walk. Wow, she is so . . . . beautiful. She had long, black hair that's pulled back into a ponytail that trails down her back and is wearing a sweet blue outfit for the Reaping. Though she's from our districts, she looks rather rich, and I realize that she's the Mayor's own daughter. Her arms are strong looking, and so is her resolve to look blank. She holds her head steady as Peacekeepers pop up to walk her down the aisle.

"Wow," I say, and all the boys around me look at me. They wrinkle their noses and roll their eyes and they instantly turn back to the stage, where Jasmine is stepping up to.

Mayor Sultan is wringing his hands as she steps next to Wiggins, who is happily clapping his hands.

"Our female tribute! Are there any volunteers?" A dead silence follows, save for the sound of the mayor.

She must be good in training, for after a moment of silence, Wiggins claps his hands again and says, "And now for our male tribute."

He walks over to the boys' ball and the air around me gets even more tense. I look to see several balling their hands into fists, ready for the fight if their names get chosen.

Wiggins resumes his stand at the microphone and calls out, "Aladdin Ababwa!"

And everyone's gaze turns to me.

I cringe when their faces grow surprised as they begin to talk quietly amongst themselves. I suddenly realize that they all recognize me. Don't I steal from their bakeries, their stores? Don't I occasionally give something that I stole to the poorer kids?

When I don't move, they shove me to the exit where Peacekeepers come to escort me. There are even more than Jasmine had had, for they all know that I'm a convicted criminal and I can escape.

I'm not able to as they lead me to my imminent death.

They give me a poke when I hesitate to go up the steps. I shoot them a look before joining Wiggins and Jasmine. She looks even more beautiful up close. She's not smiling, though, but has a sort of fierceness that she's restraining.

"Any volunteers?" Wiggins asks. Nobody calls. Nobody is willing to risk their life to save someone they don't even know, someone who looks strong enough and is strong enough, from the way that they see me leaping around houses, to survive, someone who steals from them and makes the Peacekeepers stay on edge. I sigh and look down at the ground a moment before Wiggins continues.

"Now, District two, I present your tributes! Jasmine Sultan and Aladdin Ababwa!" Wiggins exclaimed. He has a hand on each of us and now drops them together as he says, "Shake hands, now."

And I hold out my hand and she does the same. Her hand is small yet firm. It feels so smooth. What does she do in that mayor's house all day?

Speaking of the mayor, he now stands, being ushered by Wiggins to the microphone, which is once again brought down. His voice stutters as he reads the Treaty of Treason.

I ignore his speech and look over toward the mentors. John Smith and Thomas Bale are looking us both over and nod. We seem to meet their expectations. I suppose.

The Treaty of Treason soon ends and Wiggins puts a hand on our shoulders and ushers us into the Justice Building, whose doors are opening.

I take one look over my shoulder at the other kids and teens. Those safe for another year. Those who don't have to kill each other.

I then look to Jasmine. Her face is indifferent, making her radiant. Pride (something noteworthy of a Career and something I lack), is on her face, making her hair look blacker.

I try to take my eyes off of her, but I can't. I shouldn't be liking her. Even though Careers typically team up, I don't want to get attached to her.

Then suddenly I realize that I'll die no matter what. Even if I win the Games, they'll stage an accident of sorts resulting in my death, for I am still a common, stealing criminal ten times over, even if I am a victor.

Looking at her now, I realize that between her training and my determination, she's coming out of that arena.

Alive.

**There's chapter 2! This story won't be focused on Aladdin/Jasmine romance, but in the movie the first time he lays eyes on her, BOY, WAS HE A GONER. I think the only person I can think of who can live on the streets, avoid getting caught and avoid Reaping for years is Aladdin. (Yes, his name is in there several times due to the number of slips growing each year, but he doesn't exactly remember that.) **

**I hope you liked it, and please, review!**


	3. Ariel

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Thankie all for the nice reviews and for liking this story! This chapter is going to be centered on Ariel and the good byes. **

I feel numb. Really numb. I've never been in this situation before and so this is what I decide to be. Numb.

I never actually thought that my name would get picked. Of course, it never did. It was my sister's name. Adella.

Let me explain more thoroughly what happened. It's Reaping Day, the day to pick two tributes from each district to participate in the Disney games. In order for the Capitol citizens to keep an eye on everything, each Reaping in each district occurs at a different time of the day. Each district has fifteen minutes of show time and since we're District 4, we're on from 12:45 to 1 in the afternoon. Everyone eats a quick lunch before we line up in the square.

Adella and I are the only two daughters of the mayor still at the age that our names can be pulled from the Reaping, and pulled her's was.

We have two escorts, Flotsam and Jetsam, and they each pulled a name. Flotsam pulled Adella's name; I panicked. Not my sister. Not Adella.

In a moment of adrenaline, I volunteered. It was not very uncommon around the Career districts, which we are. So is 1 and 2. All my other sisters were too stunned to say anything and I was whisked off to the stage. Adella was too shocked to say anything and no one volunteered in my place. I was still shaken, but trying to keep a strong face for the camera.

The thing that happened next was the boy's name was pulled. Eric Prince, eighteen-years-old, strong, confident, good with a trident, and the guy I've had a crush on since I first saw him in training. He took a deep breath before we shook hands. Despite the situation, I felt tingly when we touched.

We broke apart and I stood there, dumbly, as the Treaty of Treason was read and then Peacekeepers have surrounded us. With Flotsam and Jetsam in the lead, we're brought into the Justice Building.

Which is now where I am numb. I look around the Justice Building. It is made to look of marble, but it's terribly dusty, the inside of the Justice Building. We don't loiter, though. Jetsam heads off with Eric into another room and I am led into another room with Flotsam.

The room has a window and a couple of chairs, and smells of seaweed. A smell I know well and want to remember before I head out to my most assuredly imminent death.

I watch as the Peacekeepers file out. Flotsam turns from me and heads back to the door. He hangs in the doorway a moment before saying, "You have ten minutes."

He moves out of the way to let a flood of sisters run over to me. They all hug me at once, tears threatening to leave. Of course, no one actually cries. We Career districts are a very tough group. Still, I'm touched.

"Ariel, I'm so sorry!" Adella cries, hugging me tightly.

"Ariel, you - you have to do well, to-to bring pride to our district," Attina says, trying to keep calm. "Sebastian and David will find your strengths and - and you'll be able to perform well, I know it!" I smile weakly. She's always the one who is serious and tries to make things work out. Thing is, I highly doubt this will.

Alana, who doesn't like being sad, tries to brighten the situation. "You'll look lovely in your interview outfits. Imagine what clothes you'll get to wear, and OH! The parade through the streets of the Capitol!"

"Oh, sure, she's caring about her dresses at a time like this!" Andrina interjects, hands on her hips, making me smile a little more.

"You'll do great, I'm sure," Aquata says weakly. "Just imagine how well you'll do if there's lots of water!"

"Yes, lots of water, you are a good swimmer, and you can fish," Arista says. She has some truth in that. I am a very good swimmer. Since our daddy's the mayor, we don't have to work, and so I usually spend a lot of time at the docks. I swim a lot, though away from the fishing boats. That's where I see Eric. He owns a boat, and he goes sailing on occasion, under the watchful eye of the Peacekeepers. Wouldn't want us to have too much fun.

My sisters, after a second, all part, giving me a kiss on the cheek before backing away. I see why. Daddy's coming forward to say good bye.

The strong mayor of District 4 has tears in his eyes as I say the first word I've said since, "I volunteer!"

"Daddy," I say, tears evident in my voice.

"My little Ariel," he says, and he wraps me in a hug.

I sigh, suppressing a tiny sob, as his strong arms wrap around me. I don't want to leave him, or my sisters. Not like this.

Over his shoulder, I see Flotsam enter the room. "You have more visitors and three minutes," he says in his slippery voice, and he begins to shoo my sisters out.

They back away from him and run to us and hug my daddy and me before they all (Daddy included), break apart and head to the door, looking over their shoulders and saying good bye.

I give them a weak wave and say, "I love you Daddy! I love you all!"

They wave back and disappear.

Flotsam then goes after them and brings in my best friend Flounder, and my other friend, Scuttle.

"Ariel!" Flounder says, running to hug me.

"Flounder, it's okay, I'll be fine," I say. Flounder needs reassuring a lot, even now, even when I'm the one who would need comforting.

"It's okay, kid, you did a good thing," Scuttle says, standing by my side. "You'll - you'll do okay. You can - can swim! Yes! Swimming is definitely your thing!"

"I hope there'll be water, Scuttle," I say.

"We all do, kid," he says sadly, "we all do."

"Try - try to survive, okay, Ariel?" Flounder says as he stands up.

I take a deep breath and say, "I'll try."

"Okay," he says, and he and Scuttle walk out before Flotsam swoops inside and says, "The car's ready, to take you to the t-t-train."

He does that a lot, stretching letters. It's a bit creepy.

I allow myself to be led back into the Justice Building's foyer where we meet again with Jetsam and Eric and more Peacekeepers. Eric lets out a breath and we look at each other for a second, and I'm fearful that I'll blush.

We don't look at each other any longer, though, for Flotsam and Jetsam lead us out the door and onto the veranda. The car is waiting just in front of us, beyond the steps. People are all around the square, departing, watching us, breathing easy for another year. My family won't be one of those breathing easy, though. Neither will Eric's, I think.

I suddenly realize that I've never seen Eric's parents. Of course, I have no reason to, but he must have had some parents or siblings or friends come to say good bye to him, right? The only person I've seen around him - besides Peacekeepers - was an old man with a gray ponytail and a rather nervous disposition. I wonder if he's Eric's grandfather.

We are led down the steps to the small car, which was brought in from the Capitol. I look over the car's roof as Eric and our escorts slide in and take one last look at the ocean. The blue of the waves. The quiet hum of its noises. A seagull is by the docks. He has more freedom than I do.

I sigh and enter the car and Flotsam demands the driver to take us to the train. We ride fast, well, the fastest I've ever gone in my life. I've never been in a car before, and practically everyone else in the districts haven't either. I press my nose and hands up against the window and watch the people pass by. How I wish that I was out there with them, not in this car, which is quickly becoming a cage.

I suck in a breath and remind myself why I'm doing this. So Adella doesn't have to die.

I sink back into my seat and look over at Eric. Even from across from him, I can smell the smell of the fresh sea air on his Reaping clothes, a white shirt with blue pants and a red belt. He's looking outside the window as well and turns back when he senses me watching him.

I turn away from him, and can definitely now feel the blush, and - to my surprise - his smile.

I summon as much courage as I can and turn back to him, smiling back.

"We'll be okay," he says to me. I suddenly realize that he's actually talking to me and I say, "Of course, we're - we're Careers. One of us is bound to win."

"Exactly," he says, but he nor I can say anymore, for Flotsam from the front seat and Jetsam between us say at once (at the same thing, too), "Listen to what we're saying."

Apparently, they were talking about schedules or something, or at least, that's what they're talking about now that they've got our attention.

They talk on in their slippery Capitol voices all the rest of the way to the train station. A hundred or so people are there to see us off as well as the TV cameras. We unload and walk single file into the train.

I enter first, and am beyond shocked. The train is absolutely beautiful. The room we've entered is like an excessive dining room. A big, shiny table covered with bottles and drinks of all kinds and of all colors. Pink, lime green, bright orange, violet, a pastel red. There's a TV, big and shiny and brand new, and all kinds of delectable delights spread across a table bigger than my bed.

There's chairs, soft ones, and in them are our mentors, David and Sebastian. They instantly stand up, and Sebastian sighs deeply. We're frenemies of a sort (I constantly am doing things he doesn't like), but we genuinely like each other. He hadn't been able to talk to me during the Reaping, but now he motions for us all to sit down.

I nod and sink into a soft chair, and I immediately look out the window, for the train starts to move. It makes a little jolt, at first, but is very smooth after that. I see District 4 whiz by, more than likely never to be seen by me ever, ever again.

**And there's chappie 3! Again, not much Ariel/Eric romance, but hey! Not everyone can have a star-crossed romance. As for the timing with the Reapings and all, I added that part, because that's probably the only way that the Capitol is able to watch them all at the same time, the dirty, little - OKAY! I'm not exactly sure how much time they have to see their loved ones so I did ten minutes.  
**

**I hope you liked the way that I characterized the characters, and if you liked it, please, just slip me a review! Cookies for all who do!**


	4. Aurora

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Disney or the Hunger Games. This chapter is in the point of view of . . . . . . . Aurora!**

Our mentors, Mulan and Merlin, invite myself and the boy from my district, a kid of twelve named Arthur, to sit in the majestic seats of the Capitol train. I shudder as I sit down. Even though this chair is far better than the ones we have in District 5, I don't like it. All around us in this train are beautiful things, all gorgeous and rich and sophisticated, and I hate them.

I grew up in a simple house with my aunts and my mother and father. I gathered berries around the compound and wore simple clothing. Things were so simple, so normal, and I miss it so much.

I didn't think that anybody or anything could disturb my little world. I didn't think that I'd get Reaped. But I did.

The worst part of all was that this fall, I was supposed to get married. I'm barely engaged, and yet I have a nearly 96% chance of me dying. I'll never get to see Philip again.

The good byes were the hardest, of course. Mother and Father came and hugged and kissed me and looked worried. My aunts, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather were there as well, wringing their hands and fretting over something that they couldn't control.

Then they were ushered out and Philip and his father, Mayor Hubert of District 5, hurried in, and we just held onto each other for the remaining minute I had.

One last minute to spend with the love of my life. Sixty seconds. A moment. One minute.

And then myself and Arthur were taken to the train and rushed off. I saw Philip waving to me at the station, but then the train picked up speed and he disappeared.

And he was gone.

I sigh and turn my attention to our mentors. Mentors are previous winners who will help us new tributes prepare for the slaughter.

There's Merlin, dressed in a funny blue nightgown and cap. Was that the new rage in the Capitol? He has a very long white beard and glasses. He looks old, which is strange. Everyone at the Capitol always try to look younger than they are.

And then there's Mulan. She won a couple of years back and it was an exciting game. She had good combat skills and was good with fires and a bow and arrow. She now smiles as pleasantly as she could (she was eying us sadly, for I could see that this was not something she particularly liked doing) and says, "Well, welcome to the train."

"We're going to be preparing you to fight, now," Merlin says (he wipes his spectacles). He puts on his spectacles and looks at us both closely. Two skinny teens, one barely twelve, one barely sixteen, both on the edge of their seats and both very nervous looking.

"Alright, let's begin," Merlin starts. He began to elaborate on plant collecting and the importance to find water as quickly as possible, which was good information to know. I sit up excitedly; I'm good with berries and plants. Maybe I won't be so hopeless.

"I'm thinking since the two of you are so small and agile that maybe it'd be best that you should hide out instead of going out into the heat of the fighting," Mulan says as we began serving ourselves from the bountiful plates of the Capitol. It was only late afternoon and so we start on tea and cakes and cookies and something called hot chocolate. It is all very nice (particularly rich). Chi Fu, our escort, looks down at us from his seat and sips his tea.

Berries were practically the only sweet thing we had at home and so the desserts and sweet drinks are a completely new experience. They all taste quite nice, especially a white cake with blue decoration. Mulan and Merlin drink copious amounts of tea (apparently the one something they enjoyed that the Capitol had to offer).

Mulan and Merlin offer more advice as we talk.

"How well do you do outside?" Mulan wonders.

"Well, I can collect berries," I say slowly, setting down my tea cup. My stomach is now hurting me in a different way than it has all my life and it's strange. It is the rich and abundant food, and the pain in my stomach reminds me that the Capitol isn't all rich food and luxury.

"That's good," Mulan says brightly. She turns to Arthur and asks, "How about you?"

"Well," he says nervously, "I got lost in the woods once."

I smile. What he called woods is just a bunch of trees that are scattered around the district. It is barely qualified to be called woods. He must have a very bad sense of direction to lose himself in such a small place.

"Well, we should probably work on your sense of direction then," Merlin says thoughtfully.

Arthur smiles and looks more at ease. Mulan clears her throat and says, "Alright, how about you go check out your bedrooms and rest a bit before supper and the watching of the Reapings?"

This was news. I never knew that tributes got to see all the Reapings before everyone else in the districts. About one of the only things going for me.

Chi Fu sighs, obviously annoyed with his job (perhaps he was looking toward being a Career district escort), and stood up, saying, "Follow me."

We follow him out of the dining room and walk into the hall. I look out the window. We are going very fast; all the trees are just a blur.

"How fast are we going?" Arthur asks.

"250 miles per hour," Chi Fu says sharply, and points us to our rooms.

We quickly enter our rooms before he reprimands us anymore.

I shut the door behind me and survey my room. It has a TV in it, far more clean and slick than the ones back home in District 5. Home. District 5. How I miss them so.

There's a dresser, slick and silver colored, with shiny knobs. There's a closet with doors completely made out of mirrors. Even the knobs show off your reflection.

The window doesn't have much. The scenery passes by so that you can't tell what you're passing. It has billowy bright pink curtains that could be pulled to cover the window.

There's a large bed right across from the TV. It has lots of orange and light blue pillows. More pillows than blankets, it seems. Made a little sense; it was summer.

And I need pillows to cry on.

Without a thought, I kick off my shoes as I run to the bed. I fling myself onto the soft pillows and begin to sob. Sob for everything. For what happened to me. For the whole Disney Games. For my poor family, my would-be family, Philip.

I cry until the tears won't come anymore. I wrack with dry sobs and lie still, nestled in the pillows on my stomach, for who knows how long.

I'm tired and worn out. I don't want to move, but after a couple of hours, when Chi Fu calls outside my door for me to come to dinner, I decide it's best not to ignore him.

I sit up and look at my closet. I see that there's another door off a few feet from it. I stand up, sniffling, and walk over to it.

I open the door and discover a bathroom. It's white and high tech with a hundred different soaps and bottles of creamy lotion and stuff I don't even know what it could be.

I simply wash my face and my hands before heading out into the dining car, still wearing my Reaping clothes.

Mulan notices this when I walk in and she says gently, "They actually have different clothes you can choose from if you want to."

I nod numbly and take a seat next to Arthur, who's looking even smaller than he had been.

The five of us eat the incredibly rich food. I was probably supposed to listen to my stomach earlier and not divulge myself too much, but matter over mind in this case. I was bound to die in a few days and I'll never get to eat like this ever again.

Both I and Arthur have the same idea and take multiple servings. Mulan watches us sadly and Chi Fu watches us with a sneer as he daintily eats his food. He has never seen kids like us when he lives in the Capitol.

Merlin is busy with his spectacles and doesn't pay much attention to us, which I don't mind.

We finish up with little talking and I realize that the lights have turned on. I look out the window and see that it's dark out now. I watch as the country passes by and I wonder what my dear Philip is doing right now, how my parents and aunts are holding up.

A voice breaks through to me. "It's time to watch the Reapings," Chi Fu says firmly.

I nod numbly and Arthur and I take seats in the comfy chairs. Mulan and Merlin take chairs on either side of us, cup of tea in their hands. Merlin has an owl on his shoulder. Are these the kind of animals the Capitol keeps as pets? I get very startled when the bird says, "Well, let's put it on, then, and get this blasted TV viewing over with."

"He can talk?" I say. The owl ruffles his feather irritably and says,"Yes, miss, I can talk!"

Merlin smiles and whispers something to the owl. He then turns back to me and says, "The Capitol, while quite cruel and rude, is quite good with technology and they've made something called mutts."

I've heard of those and seen some. They have some in the Games sometimes. Last year, there was some elephants that had poisoned tusks and who had a deafening roar with clawed feet.

"So your bird is a mutt?" I say quietly as Chi Fu watches on, annoyed.

"Yes, he is. Archimedes is a combination of parrot and owl," Merlin explains. He looks to his bird and sighs. "He is quite remarkable, isn't he?"

"He's very fascinating," Arthur pipes up. He slides down in his seat and Chi Fu, sighing, says, "Now if you all will look at the screen. . . ."

We turn to the screen to see the Disney sign and anthem. It's a castle with sparkles. Typical Capitol.

We then see an interview room with the usual host. His name is Goofy Goof. He has floppy black hair and outrageous hats. He has an enormous grin on his face.

I sigh and bring my knees to my chest. The reason I do this was because Goofy looks so happy, but there's a secret he doesn't know about that everybody else does.

He was taken from District 2 and was brainwashed into being the Capitol announcer. It was said that he was in a conspiring group against the Capitol that included Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Daisy and Donald Duck, Goofy and several other people. They were caught and taken to the Capitol and instead of done away with, they were made an example of and were brainwashed into being the Capitol's servants.

They are the pieces of the Capitol's Games. We are all pieces in their Games. It's sick and SO, SO WRONG.

We all watch as he announces the 74th annual Disney Games and takes us to the Reapings. Each Reaping from the districts are shown and commented on for two minutes, making everyone know who was Reaped this year.

We watch as we start with District 1. The girl's small, petite really. She has blonde hair and a skip in her step as she takes place on stage. She's wearing a bow in her hair and a light blue dress with a white covering of sorts on top of it. The boy is HUGE. He's almost orange with tan, and has huge, bulging muscles and orange hair. He towers over the escort and everyone else in the crowd.

District 2's girl is wearing a blue outfit of sorts and has very long, black hair. She looks like she can be deadly. Mulan and Merlin make few remarks on the tributes and we see District 2's boy, a lad with a purple vest and a red hat that looks very confused and reluctant for a Career.

District 3's not a Career district, and therefore is not as impressive as District 3. The boy's really skinny, late teens, with huge glasses that seem to like to fall all over his face. The girl has brunette hair that's in a ponytail and is wearing an outfit similar to District 1's girl. I'm sure that Goofy is telling us their names and that Mulan and Merlin are talking but I'm not paying attention to them. Only to the screen.

District 4, the last Career district, has a girl, around sixteen, with wildly bright red hair, and a boy with soft black hair and pretty eyes. Better not let myself think about looks when we're going to talk about allies.

And then we're suddenly at my district, District 5. I lean forward (as does everyone else, except Chi Fu), and watch as my name gets picked. I watch my face as I try to keep a straight face. I get led down to the stage and then little Arthur gets Reaped. He looks scared and bewildered and is brought down. We shake hands and then we suddenly switch to District 6.

I lean back, a bit numb at seeing myself on the TV, and see the girl from District 6 get Reaped. She has a soft blue dress and brown hair done up with little curls in a bun. She's followed by a boy in green with very red hair. Neither of them can be more than twelve.

7's got a girl, late teens, in a yellow dress and boots. She has her hair down up in a bun, and looks alarmed to see 7's boy get Reaped. It's a teen probably in his last year of the Reaping, tall, muscular. He has long brown dreadlocks and looked a little nervous, constantly tripping in his shoes.

Mulan is sure that he'll be a threat even if he's not a Career, and Merlin agrees.

The next girl is very surprising. Maybe it's the purple dress that people in District 8 (or any district, for that matter) don't normally wear, or the sort of innocence that seems to be around her, but it's more than likely the VERY long head of blonde hair she has. It trails behind her in the dust and the Peacekeepers are tripping over it. I hear Goofy laughing and making a joke.

The boy follows her next. He wears a blue vest and brown pants and has tossed brown hair and a VERY pretty grin that is able to make a lot of the girls of District 8 smile. He isn't as pretty or handsome as Philip to me, though, and unless I'm supposed to be his ally, I'm avoiding him.

We zoom in District 9 where the girl has blonde hair and a peasant-like dress. She has a band in her hair and looks around curiously as she's taken upstage. The boy's got red hair (a lot of these people do) and normal, dirty clothes.

After District 9 is District 10. The girl's small, with short red hair and a red dress with white tights and black boots. She looks terrified and so does the boy. He has black, short hair (which is short in girl standards, it's about to his shoulder) and dark skin. Both have to be twelve, even though they both look nine.

District 11's girl has black hair and dark brown skin. She's wearing a green hat and outfit and renounces herself to her fate quite determinedly. The boy from that district looks anything but the girl. He has black hair, of course, but his skin is lighter, and he's smirking with arrogance when he's on the stage.

After them, we get to the final district. District 12. The girl has noticeably white skin under the grey tint of the dust that surrounds everyone there and has short black hair that's clinging to her head. She's followed by the last tribute of the year, and he has red hair. Surprise, of course, but he also looks rather hunched, it seems, as he walked up onstage. Everyone in the crowd is noticeably depressed over this year's tributes. Of course, everyone is depressed by the Disney Games, save for the people in the Capitol.

The camera switches off to Goofy, who grins and tells us all good bye. The Disney logo is played and the anthem.

The TV switches off but we still stare at it for a second.

"There's your competition," Mulan finally says.

I nod slowly. The people I have to kill, or the ones who have to kill me.

**Yay, this is longer than most of the other chappies! I know that some of the tributes are a little bit older or younger to be tributes but they'll work, right? Sorry if I didn't get Aurora's personality down. She only had so much screen time in the movie, but I like her and I hope I did a good job with her.**

**Can anybody guess who the other tributes described are? I hope you liked it and please review!**


	5. Arthur

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Disney or the Hunger Games. At all. All I have is a pin. And two songs. And some Disney stuff, but that, dear people, is beside the point. Ronnie343 guessed them all correctly except for the District 1 male. YAY! TwoFlowersAndABunchOfTrees got him correct with him being Hercules. Alright, here is the point of view of Arthur!**

We all sit a little while longer in our chairs. Aurora and I share glances and sigh. We're both toast, no matter what Mulan and Merlin say. The boy from District 1 was HUGE. I'm not going to be able to live while he does and Mulan and Merlin know it. They're trying to make us not feel so bad, I know, but there's nothing they can do about it.

The best I have are my quick legs and that's about it. Merlin knows that. He knows a lot about me. Whenever I could escape chores I did for Ector and Kay, I would go over to Victor's Village and talk with Merlin. I've known him and Archimedes for a while. Ector and Kay don't like it when I go over there. They find him strange. Maybe it's because he's a Victor and has been in the Capitol a lot.

I don't know. I really don't.

Merlin now wipes his glasses for the umpteenth time and says, "Well, I suppose we should all get some sleep before we arrive in the Capitol tomorrow morning."

"Yes, and then there'll be the Tribute Parade we have to prepare for," Chi Fu reminds us. I don't think he likes us much at all. His mustache always flickers as if he's annoyed and he frowns when he looks at Aurora and I. It's because we're from District 5 and he's from the Capitol, of course. I hear that he wants a better district, like 4 or 2 or 1.

I wish he would go to a different district. He's rather grumpy and is making this trip even more miserable than it has to be.

I sigh and accidentally sink lower in my seat. Chi Fu's lip curls and Aurora stands up and offers me her hand.

"Thanks," I say quietly as I stand up.

She just gives me a sort of sad smile.

We bid good night to Mulan and Merlin and Chi Fu (I secretly wish him a bad night) and the two of us head to our rooms.

We stop in the hall and just stand for a moment, feeling the slight move of the train.

"Well, see you tomorrow," Aurora says after a moment, and sighing, she heads into her room.

"See ya," I say, and I enter my room.

I listen to the lull of the train as I slip on some blue pajamas. There's a ton of clothes in my closet, more than I've seen in my entire life, and they fit perfectly. The Capitol sure has a lot of stuff the districts don't.

I scramble into my bed. The bed itself is as big as my bedroom back home. It's longer and wider than I am tall. There's a lot of differently colored blankets and a LOT of pillows. If I wasn't so nervous or sleepy, I might just make a pile of them or a fort. I'm too tired, though.

I just lay under some of the blankets and stare at the ceiling. It has a fan (I think that's what it's called), on it. I wonder how it stays up there.

I gulp and lay to my side. Maybe the fan won't stay up there. Maybe, while I'm sleeping, it'll fall on me. I almost wish it would just to aggravate the Capitol. It'd make them furious to only have 23 kids in their games. It's not like I won't be killed in the next few days anyway.

That's my last thought before I get too tired and I fall asleep.

I wake up several times during the night, not used to sleeping in such a bed. There's also the dreams to be accounted for, of course. More like nightmares.

I lay in bed for a while, listening to the train. After a while, I look and see that the metallic clock on the wall says 7:32, so I decide to get up.

I tug on a red shirt and brown pair of pants and wash my face. I'll do my teeth after breakfast.

I run a comb through my hair so Chi Fu doesn't have to comment on my person and then I head outside into the hall. I look out the window to see us passing a bunch of trees. Maybe we're in District 7 or something. I don't know. Most everyone doesn't know. Districts are supposed to be kept very separate except for the Games and Victory Tours.

The Victory Tour is where that year's victor goes on a train like this one and along with their crew, they go touring the other districts, addressing them and reminding them of the Games. I never look forward when they pass through District 5. There's just a lot more Peacekeepers hanging around the district.

I stop looking out the window when Aurora pops out of her room. She's wearing a new blue dress and has her hair brushed and done up, you know, like teenage girls usually do it.

She gives me a nervous smile and says, "Today's the day."

"Yeah," I shrug, putting my hands in my pockets.

"We should go or Chi Fu will get mad," she says, and I nod. We both turn and walk down the hall and open the door to the dining room.

The dining room's just as filled as it was yesterday. The bar's filled with colored liquids that I know I'm not allowed to touch. There's an extravagant breakfast table set out. There's silver dishes and clear goblets and big dishes and shiny silverware and tall candle sticks and flower centerpieces. Lots of golden lilies and roses that are both red and white, straight from the greenhouses of the Capitol.

The windows let in natural light, practically the only thing not made by the Capitol. It shines on everything and makes it sparkle. It's kinda pretty.

Mulan and Chi Fu and Merlin are already there, drinking tea. Merlin's still in his nightgown and Mulan and Chi Fu are dressed up finely.

Mulan looks to us (Merlin's busy with his spectacles and Chi Fu looks at us as well, but sneers and turns back to his tea) and says kindly, "Did you both have a good night sleep?"

"Yes, it was quite nice," Aurora says, and I nod. No point bothering them with my sleepless night.

"Good, good, come and sit. We're supposed to be in the Capitol in just a little while," Mulan tells us.

We both cross the room and take seat across from Chi Fu and Mulan.

"Yes, but because of turbulence issues. We should have gotten there earlier," Chi Fu complains. Apparently District 5 isn't that far from the Capitol. He eyes Aurora and I as if it is our fault we aren't there yet and he takes another sip of tea.

We look at each other nervously and start to eat breakfast. There's a ton of stuff that's not the usual in District 5. There's five different types of eggs and six different breads and three juices and ten meats and four cheeses and three plates for each person. It was an awful lot, of course.

Mulan and Merlin each address us while we eat. Mulan's talking to Aurora and Merlin's talking to me, because we're friends.

He says, "You know, Arthur, I think I have an idea for you."

"What?" I ask, putting down my cup.

Merlin sits back in his seat, his finger tapping together. He straightens and says, "How well do you think you could be with a sword?"

"A sword?" I say quietly. I've only seen them in the Games. There's none of the sort at home. If someone had one, it'd be the Peacekeepers. I've never touched one in my life. I don't have a clue if I'd be good with one.

"Yes, a sword," he says. His eyes twinkle slightly as he continues, "It's a slender weapon and it might work with you being you."

"But sir," I say, "I'm very clumsy." That was very true. I'm constantly tripping over my feet.

Chi Fu sighs and says, "Well, I suggest you stop being clumsy. If you want to win, you must not be clumsy!"

"Chi Fu," Mulan admonishes him.

"He has a point, you know," I say, looking at my plate and concentrating on cutting a sausage.

"We can work on that, though," Merlin points out. "I was not the most graceful person ever and look at me!" He waves his hands out and his chair falls backward.

Chi Fu groans and Aurora suppresses a smile and Mulan rushes to help him back up.

"Oh, thank you, my dear," he says as Mulan brings him back up. He smiles and dusts himself off before pointing to me and he says, "Just remember, it doesn't matter if you're not big and strong. As I always say, brains over brawn."

"Being bigger and able to stand up without falling would matter, though," Chi Fu sniffs.

"Oh, Chi Fu," Merlin says, pointing a finger at him, "that's where you're wrong."

They both start to argue and point fingers. Mulan gives the two of us an apologetic smile and begins to talk to Aurora about allies and such.

I listen to them for a bit while I finish my breakfast.

"I'm not good at meeting new people and making friends," Aurora says.

"You did well with meeting us," Mulan says with a smile. "You'll do fine."

I listen to them for another minute before I stand up. My stomach's starting to hurt a little. Hopefully it won't get worse.

I decide to look out the window and see if we're there yet. I clamber slowly (my stomach's full and we're in a moving train and I don't want Chi Fu to see me stumble) and lean against the wall, hands on the panes of glass.

"Hands off! That is expensive!" Chi Fu yells.

I frown and do so, putting my hands on the wall as well.

I lean more and look out. My eyes widen as I realize that we've passed all those trees and now ahead is a giant waterfall. I let out a breath, realizing that we're on a bridge that is over the waterfall.

Behind the waterfall is the Capitol. I'm sure of it. None of the districts would have candy pink buildings or white fluffy clouds with dozens of hovercrafts hanging in the air.

"We're here," I say excitedly. I can't help but feel excited.

"Really?" Aurora says, and she joins me by the window. She can't help but be a little excited like me as we watch as we glide quickly over the bridge of the waterfall into the Capitol.

Mouths open now, we look at up at the huge buildings ("Skyscrapers," Chi Fu sniffs) and suddenly the windows are blocked with a wall of grey.

We instantly stand back, wondering what happened.

"We're in the train station," Mulan says. We turn to see her standing up and joining us.

We are indeed. We stop zooming so fast and we slow down. Aurora and I drop our jaws as we come to a stop. In front of us are dozens and dozens and hundreds of Capitol citizens. They are, first of all, dressed ridiculously. They're tattooed and dyed and have wigs and makeup and I can't tell if they're even human at all. Some of grotesque green skin with pug noses. Some look like weasels. There's huge, grey men with black hair on the weirdest of places on their faces. There's black, thin figures darting out everywhere. They barely look human, they're so thin.

"Wave," Mulan whispers, "it'll help."

So Aurora and I wave at them, and they go crazy falling over themselves, tripping over others, wanting to get a glimpse of us.

Chi Fu sighs and I look over to Merlin, see what he has to say. His eyes twinkle as he says, "Don't worry about them, Chi Fu. They know what they're doing."

I grin and turn back to the crowd. As long as I'm doing something right, I think I might have a slight chance in the Games. A slight chance, but a chance nevertheless.

**There you goes, nice people! I don't know where all the districts are located and yes, I have looked at maps. I just want to say (fair warning), that the person who wins might surprise you, and I'm not going to change who wins. Anyways, I hope you liked this, and thanks for reading!  
**


	6. Snow White

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Disney or the Hunger Games. I'm updating faster than usual! Are you proud of me, my lovelies? (Doesn't matter if you don't.) Here is the point of view of . . . . SNOW WHITE. **

It's a good thing that Clopin knows how to handle a crowd, or else we'd be in very big trouble. He casts his arms in front of us while still watching the crowd with a delightful grin. I peek over his shoulder. There's a ton of people there, and they're all wearing a lot of different colors. We don't wear a lot of colors in District 12. Most everything is grey, even everyone's skin.

Clopin's smile broadens as he says, "Citizens of the Capitol, please, I must say that I have to keep my lovelies alive until the Games. Please, move, move along now."

He waves his hands around, and they start to back away.

I hear Laverne, one of our mentors, behind me whisper to Victor, our other one, "You'd think they'd be a little less annoying."

"Haven't you got used to them, yet?" Hugo asks her.

"Naw," Laverne says, "I'll never get used to them." She never has. I've seen her stay at District 12 as much as she can. Her skin's still permanently grey, and the Capitol can't do anything with their makeup and such to disguise it.

I gasp as Clopin turns abruptly toward us and says, "Our car has come." He offers me a hand. "My dear?"

I nod and take his hand, and he sweeps me past the citizens, away from the train, practically dragging me to the car. I gasp as my short legs try to keep up.

We come up to a long black car that stands out a lot in the pastel colored Capitol. A black haired girl dressed in red opens one of the doors, and Clopin settles me inside.

"We must hurry," he says as I crawl over the seats until I reach the end one with a window seat. "We only have a few hours to get you and Quasimodo ready, and goodness knows, he'll need help if he wants sponsors."

I nod, even though I'm barely listening. Everything is moving so fast. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"The Remake Center, all quick-like," and Clopin winks and shuts the door and rushes off. He's going to go get Quasimodo and Laverne and Victor.

I settle back in my seat and take in a breath. All of this is a lot to take in. Having only lived in District 12 all my life, everything is very foreign. Life at District 12 had always been so simple and routine. I am an orphan, and everybody knows that orphans go to live in community homes, and those are the worst in District 12. I've always felt sad for the little orphans, and the prospect of going there scared me.

Luckily, some nice (and very short) men took me in. I took care of the house and them while they went to and fro from the mines everyday. It was awfully nice, until the Games came along. I fear that I might be one of the youngest, being only 14 and all.

I sigh and look out the window. People are talking and chatting and pointing at the window, and I know that they see me. I instantly look down and see a lot of buttons. I hastily press button after button until I sit back, relieved, when a dark shade covers the window up.

I sit back more and relax a little bit but then gasp when I see the door opposite me open. I sigh happily when in comes Quasimodo, Laverne and Victor, Clopin behind them, ushering them on.

"My goodness, are they excited out there," Clopin says brightly.

"Hmph," Laverne says, folding her arms and leaning back in her seat.

Quasimodo smiles and says, "How long will it take to get to the Remake Center?"

Clopin quickly takes a seat between Quasi and myself and puts an arm around us each, pulling us closer to him. "Oh, it'll only take a couple of minutes. What you should be excited about is tonight's Tribute Parade!"

"Yeah, so they can see the meat for this year's Games," Laverne says grumpily.

"Laverne, we must not say things like that in front of people like, you know, him," Victor says quickly and urgently in her ear. He's very loud, though, but I turn to see Clopin and he doesn't seem to notice. His grip on our shoulders comes off and he's clapping excitedly, leaning back in his seat, cackling a bit. Quasimodo and I share a look over him. I smile and so does he.

The car starts rolling and we're off to the Remake Center.

* * *

"Sit up straighter, dear, come along now," Minnie says. I do so, and she scrubs my back even harder. It hurts, but I don't complain. I'm always telling the Seven Dwarfs (that's what everyone calls my friends because they're so short) to always keep clean with soap and water and to scrub, scrub, scrub.

"How's she doing?" Daisy says as she enters, holding a big bucket full of cleaning products. Her feathery light hair is done up with a very large bow and her arms are covered with bracelets and bangles and her high heels click against the ground.

I gasp when Minnie showers me down. The water turns off and she says, "She's ready."

"Good, 'cause we've got a LOT to do," Daisy says as she begins to unpack her bucket.

Shivering, I gratefully pull the towel that Minnie gives me closer. I step out of the metal tub and Minnie rushes to the brushes and bows.

"Do you think it'll be okay to put a bow in her hair?" Minnie asks Daisy with a smile as they rummage through their stuff.

_The poor things_, I think as I put the towel on properly. I heard once from Grumpy that the two of them and a few others had been taken from their district by the Capitol and were brainwashed. It was awfully sad, and so I didn't hate them at all. I don't really hate people. I think the Capitol is unfair and cruel but generally I like everyone else.

I instantly straighten, though, when I hear some small screams from beyond my room made out of three curtains and a wall. I look over to my prep team, but they barely notice.

Minnie motions for me to sit on the metal counter. "Lie down," she says, and I see her dipping pieces of paper in something that's steaming.

"What are you going to do?" I ask, a little concerned.

"We're just going to make your skin nice and smooth and - MINNIE!" Daisy shrieks. She's looking at my legs and grabs Minnie (who drops the paper back into the bowl) and points at my legs, "Look!"

"My GOODNESS!" Minnie shrieks as well. "Is this possible?"

"What happened?" I say, and I sit up. I squint and look at my legs. They look far more white than usual (all that heavy scrubbing took the dingy grey off) but that's about it. I look at the two of them, concerned, as they cover their mouths.

"My goodness, what ever is the matter?" I say.

"There's no hair on your legs," Minnie says, a little in awe.

"And none on your arms," Daisy continues. "And your skin is so white. . . ."

"Not at all stained grey like those from your district," Minnie adds.

"What's going on here?" I hear another voice, and turn, still in my towel, to see the third member in my prep team. Donald comes in, wearing a bow tie and gold ring earrings. We had been introduced a bit before Minnie and Daisy whisked me off to be washed.

"She doesn't have any hair on her except for her head!" Minnie says, rushing over to Donald and pulling him closer. "See?"

"Hmm, you're right," Donald says after a moment.

"And her skin is all white, not a grey speck on her," Daisy says shrilly.

"Is that alright?" I ask.

"It's fine, but really strange," Donald says. He shrugs his shoulders and then claps his hands. "Let's begin!"

"Right, we only have a couple of hours before the parade," Daisy says. She puts a hand on my shoulder and brings me down to her height. I do so, and she begins to brush my hair until it's smooth.

I turn to face them so that my legs dangle alongside the table and they begin to work, chatting excitedly about the parade.

"It's going to be positively brilliant this year," Daisy says excitedly. Her brush jerks my hair back and I refrain from complaining or saying something like, "Ow."

"I KNOW, everyone will be glowing," Minnie gushes as she starts to file my fingernails into perfect, uniform shapes.

"Do you know what she's going to wear?" Donald asks the two of them as he begins to file my toenails.

"I don't know yet," Minnie says, and Daisy nods. Donald applies a layer of yellow gloss to his lips before he continues.

"Do you have an idea what you're going to do in the Games?" Daisy asks me after a while. She begins to cover my hair in different oils. It's the first serious question any of them have said.

"I'm going to try to stay away from everyone. I'm usually good at picking berries and such," I say.

"That sounds like fun!" Daisy says. "You know, your hair is GORGEOUS!"

"Amazing!" Minnie adds.

They continue for a few minutes and then they all stand back in a line.

"Well?" I ask after a moment. Donald looks thoughtful and Daisy and Minnie have clasped hands.

"You look fabulous!" Donald says, his hands sweeping out. Daisy and Minnie squeal and grabbing my hands, drag me over to the mirror. I come quickly. They look so excited and I like making people happy.

"Look, look!" Daisy says, and she and Minnie drop my hands.

I do. I'm surprised by myself. My skin always had a layer of dirt on it, but now it was shiny, white and smooth, and my hair's all poofy, but soft and slick. I do wonder what I'll look like in my costume.

"You're perfect! Come now, let's take you to your stylist!" Minnie says, and she and Daisy take my hands and take me over to the waiting room. The room is light, and airy. It has windows and a table with seats.

I take a seat and each of my prep team members kisses me on the cheek before they walk out the door, waving.

I wave back at them until they disappear. I turn back in my seat and I wait. I wait for my stylist to show up. I wait for the Tribute Parade. I wait for the Games to begin.

**There you go, awesome peoples! I hope you liked it and please, review!**


	7. Belle

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. I'm loving how y'all are liking this! Thank you for the reviews! Gosh, I've gotta get to be more constant with this story. (And yes, Samantha Spanner, for the story, Hercules will be fully human, albeit really strong.) Anyhoodlum, here is the point of view of Belle!**

I sit patiently as I wait for my stylist. The chair I sit in is soft and white, but stylish. At least, it is in my opinion. Then again, I don't think my opinion of something is the same as the opinions of practically everyone else. I am strange, and I always have been. Even in District 3, I was always considered to be a bit of a strange girl.

I won't be going back to District 3. I'm going into the Games, and at this moment I'm sitting in a soft, light yellow bathrobe in a room with three plain walls and a big window that allows me access to see a view of the candy colored Capitol.

Honest John, District 3's escort, said that the Capitol was a brilliant place. I'm not entirely sure I agree with that. At all.

I sigh and sit back in my chair. The next few days should be a fantastic sort of hell. There'll be the usual beauty contest and interviews and training and then the Arena. This morning I had asked Lewis Robinson and Dr. Delbert Doppler, the mentors for District 3, what my strategy should be. Neither of us had a clue nor do we have a clue.

I sigh but sit up when I hear the door behind me open. In comes my stylist. He has big, round and black colored ears and is wearing a white polo and red shorts. A tie hangs down his front and he fixes a pair of fake looking glasses over his face.

"Belle?" he says in a high pitched voice. He offers me a hand and a small smile, "Mickey Mouse, your stylist. Call me Mickey; no need for formalities."

"Mickey?" I say, shaking his hand. This had to be him. Mickey Mouse, the one who was part of the rebellion back a few years ago. It had to be him.

I watch as he takes a seat to my right. He presses a button on the table next to him and food pops up. It's creamy cheese and fresh, soft bread and multicolored berries and a thin, creamy sauce in a petite pitcher. A platter of smoky smelling meats pop up as the color green. For some reason, I'm not totally surprised by the button. The Capitol is the basic opposite of the districts. Buttons that produce food when touched shouldn't be surprising.

"I suppose you're hungry. Better eat now," Mickey says, and we both fill our lofty looking plates. We begin to eat and talk. Mickey, earring in one of his huge ears, is actually really nice. Course, he was from the Districts, and I can tell. He's a bit grimmer than you'd be if you were born and raised in the Capitol.

"So, what are you planning for my outfit?" I ask him after we're done eating.

"Well, I have a lot of outfits for you for the various occasions, but tonight's something special. You know how each outfit is supposed to portray your district," he says. That's true. Things from District 2 are supposed to be stony almost, to represent the masonry they have. Clothes based on District 8 have many different textures and fabrics because District 8 makes the clothes for the Capitol.

"Well, our district has technology," I say.

"Exactly, and what's something that most technology is?"

I turn thoughtful and say after a moment, "Complicated?"

Mickey grins. "Shiny. Shiny and metallic, Belle, shiny and metallic."

A couple of hours later, I'm being decked out in Mickey's masterpiece. It's a flowing, silver dress that hugs my waist but flows down. My shoes are shiny and glittery. My nails are done up with silver colored nail polish and I have a small ponytail that trails over a curtain of loose hair down my neck. A bracelet is on my right wrist. Silver earrings are clipped onto my ears because they weren't pierced already and a silver chain is around my neck.

It's an awful lot. Never in the districts would we dream or even think of such a thing as this outfit. Really. A waste of materials in the districts. It's comfortable, though. I could have gotten something worse. I could have gotten something really bad that exposed a lot.

"How do you like it?" Mickey asks. He has a tape measure on over his shoulders and he's looking at me, wondering what I think. I'm not entirely sure what I think.

Back at District 3 my father works for the Capitol as an inventor. He's watched constantly because he invents and the Capitol likes to have their eyes on everything in the districts. At home he works on stuff too, though nobody is supposed to know or he'll get reported. The stuff he works with is dark gray metal that's clunky. Everything that's metallic in District 3 is dark and clunky.

Everything in the Capitol is shiny. Mickey's never been to District 3; the stuff that District 3 sends to the Capitol is shiny; the stuff that my district uses is not like it. Mickey thinks his clothes for me represent my district. I'm not too sure about that.

I sigh and say, "I like it." It is a really pretty dress, after all. I'm not saying it isn't. It's just a lie, this dress; that's all.

"Great, now, let's get you to the stables! We have to hurry!" he says, and he throws off the tape measure while I shove invisible dust off of my skirt and we go into the hall.

There we meet up with Milo, the boy tribute from my district, and his stylist Le Fou, who's wearing a ridiculous hairdo.

"Hey there, Belle," Milo says politely.

He's wearing a silver colored toga of sorts that's hanging off one shoulder. There's a long pair of dark gray pants with his outfit along with shiny sandals. His old, cracked glasses are replaced with straight glasses that don't fall off of his face.

He looks a little ridiculous, but as it is in the Capitol.

"Hello," I say, but that's all we can say as Mickey and Le Fou hurry us to the stables.

The stable is very busy. There's twelve chariots all lined up; black, wicked looking horses are ready to pull them.

Mickey and Le Fou walk us down to our chariot, the third one in line. We walk up the couple of steps into the silver chariot.

"Alright, Belle, I want you to have your two hands clasped together," Mickey instructs me. I do so. My left tugs on the bracelet on my right in nervousness. "Hold them like you're so excited you can't bare it. Then, when people see you, smile, act excited, make them happy."

I don't want to make them happy. But I nod.

I hear Le Fou telling Milo what to do and then he walks off. I turn to Milo, who sighs and pushes his glasses up onto his face out of habit.

"I hate this," he mutters under his breath.

"So do I," I sigh, my lips pulled down in a frown.

"What is the point of having us like this when we're about to die in a couple of days?" he says.

I know. It's sick and stupid and I hate it. I can't tell him though, since there's Peacekeepers everywhere and no doubt cameras watching us so that they know when to start the opening anthem. I just say, "It's the Capitol way, Milo. It's not supposed to be questioned."

"Yeah," he mutters.

I frown and tell him, "Remember, don't say stuff like that. You'll just get in trouble."

"How?"

"You'll get a low training score or the Gamemakers will make sure that you don't win," I say.

"I'm not going to win no matter what," he says.

"Neither am I," I say after a moment. I know that.

Suddenly we hear the opening anthem. We stand up straighter and watch as the doors to the stable open to reveal the road that leads to the city center.

We watch District 1 and 2 go.

"Ready?" Milo says when it's our turn.

"I suppose," I say, and the chariot moves out. The horses' hooves pound against the ground. So does my anxious heart.

Here we go.

**There's that! I hope you liked it and please, review!**


	8. Alice

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Disney or the Hunger Games. Now, I know I've been writing in mostly the girls' point of view, but I'll be getting to the lads presently, just you wait. Here is the point of view of little Alice!  
**

I'm in the chariot, and I feel so small. So small in this huge chariot and next to the gigantic boy from my district; his name is Hercules, and even though he's supposed to kinda be with me, I feel a little intimidated. I'm not to show it, though. I'm going to show myself, as the mentors, Kronk and Phil, told me to be, as a little child awed by everything. I'm going to act a little ditzy, a little childish, but not intimidated, at least for the moment. It's a different strategy for District 1, I know, but I think maybe if I pull it off, the sponsors will see me and add their money to my sponsor pool.

I must act slightly dazed, but pleasantly surprised by everything. Childish innocence is what I'm supposed to have, and I think I have it. I mean, just looking around, I'm amazed. It's like another weird, crazy world where everyone is dressed up funnily and there's strange food and music. It's like a dream, almost, except there's pain, knowing that all of this won't exist in a few days for me.

I look around now, amazed. I'm wearing a glitzy blue dress and my hair is literally dazzling with glitter as we ride down the road to the City Center. There's a bunch of stands ahead, and people (I THINK they're people) line the stands.

I take in a deep breath. Hercules and I are the first ones going through the stands. I look up to him and I'm surprised when he looks down at me.

"Ready?" he says. He's dressed up in a big set of orange armor, no doubt to show off how many muscles he has.

"I think so," I say quietly.

He nods and we both look ahead toward the crowd.

We're in their view now, and they're going crazy falling over each other. They're actually, quite literally, falling over each other. It's almost comical, and I feel like laughing but I instead put a wistful look on my face and look out, innocent and childish. It's a bit of a different strategy than the usual with us from District 1; we're know to be ruthless killers. Here I am being different, and everyone's eating us up.

Hercules looks on to everyone without moving; I wave my hand gently around, looking star-struck. It's not that hard, considering how astonished I really am.

We are the first to appear to the crowd. The shouting gets louder and louder as other chariots behind us come into everyone's view. There is cameras everywhere and they flitter from chariot to chariot.

We go through the stands and we're heading to the City Center where the great building that is the Rulers' Manor is. That's where the Rulers of Disney go to work everyday. It's big and huge and fanciful.

I gaze about at the screaming people as we pass them. They're like something out of a dream. I daydream a lot back in District 1 (my sister finds it awfully annoying when I do because she wants me to think of serious things) but never in any of my daydreams would I imagine everything like this. We see everything on TV, of course, but it isn't the same on screen as it is in real life.

We begin to swerve and I reach out a hand and hold onto the chariot as we turn to the right to get in line to face the rulers. We're in a semi-circle in front of the Rulers' Manor, where there's a balcony. On the balcony are the rulers.

I look around as the chariot stops and I look up. On the balcony are the rulers of Disney. There's a lot of them. There's one, Cruella de Vil, who's dressed in a rich animal coat and has black and white hair, parted with one color on each side of her head.

There's Shan Yu, whose skin is grey and is wearing a multi-piece outfit that looks uncomfortable. There's Gaston, one beast of a man; John Silver, a man with a cyber eye and leg. There's tons of them, and even though they are quite murderous, they all look pleased to see us.

I'm not the only one looking up now. Everyone in their chariots and in the stands in their fanciful costumes are looking toward the rulers as well. All the cameras are on them, putting them on screen live all over Panem. It's strange how cameras all hook up with our TVs. I wonder how it all works. I'm interested in all strange things.

One of the rulers steps forward. I believe it's Maleficent. Her skin is tinted green and she's wearing horns. She's wearing a dark pair of black and purple robes and smiles pleasantly as she begins to talk.

"Welcome, welcome, tributes and citizens of Disney, to the Disney Games!" She spreads her arms out wide, causing everyone in the stands to scream and clap. Every last tribute stands still, a hard look on their eyes, including my own.

Maleficent smiles to herself and continues, "Tributes, we appreciate all of your sacrifice in participating in our games. Welcome to the Capitol, and let us hope that you enjoy your time here. Now, you may head to the Training Center, and may the odds be _ever _in your favor." Clapping comes and Maleficent turns back to the other rulers, who are all clapping politely in their thrones behind her.

I look back, searching faces. I don't know why, but I capture the eyes of the Queen of Hearts. The ruler is plump and red and looks at me back. I stare at her coldly, even as the horses turn to go to the Training Center. I don't drop the overall look that I'm acting like a child, but I can tell that she sees my eyes as cold and hard. I don't like her at all. She likes it when people get beheaded in the arena.

In a minute, we're already at the stables at the Training Center. The stable hands, some Avoxes, grab the reins of the horses and grabbing a bit of my skirt, I leap down from the chariot. A second later, Hercules lands behind me, a hand on the ground. He straightens with poise and looks deadlier than ever.

I keep my head high, however, and I turn to see our mentors, Kronk and Phil, and our escort, the Mad Hatter, as he is called, coming toward us at a fast pace.

"Brilliant, you kids didn't mess it up," Phil says, looking from myself to Hercules. He's the shortest mentor and has horns and fur all over him.

"Yes, yes, you did FABULOUSLY," the Mad Hatter says, jumping about a bit and shivering. He's a bit hoppy. He drinks tea a lot. I suppose that's why he's so energetic.

"You know, you did great with representing your district, you two," Kronk says, obviously impressed. He reaches out his arms and grabs Hercules and I with each arms and then pulls us close in a hug. "Proud . . . cannot even start to describe what I'm feeling right now."

"Great," Hercules says a bit weakly. Kronk has huge muscles and I'm completely hidden by them. I hope that he puts us down soon. He does, and says, "Now, let's go to our rooms!"

Breathing heavily, I walk behind the four men toward the elevator. There's a crowd around the elevator and Phil shoves us forward.

"You're from District One, make yourself act you're from there," he snarls.

I nod and walk behind Hercules as he parts the sea of people. I think of what to do, and I put my hands on my hips and put my nose up, acting so so that everyone won't think that I'm really such an innocent child like I was acting.

It works a bit, anyway, and we get an elevator with three people. One's District 9's escort, which looks like a toad/troll sort of thing. Next to him are the tributes for 9. The girl with the blonde hair and the yellow flowing dress with wheat on it must be my age, though she looks older. The boy looks to be about fourteen and is looking away in his green outfit which looks like a plant before it turns tan.

We all stay silent and Hercules pushes the button before the girl can.

"Hey, we were here first," she says. I look to Hercules, who says, "Hey, our floor comes up first, 'kay?"

The girl snarls and puts her hands on her hips but doesn't say anything.

We move up to District 1's floor and Hercules and I walk out, him swinging his arms, me with my nose in the air. We approach the door that lets us go to our rooms as the elevator departs and he says, "Was that good enough, do you think?"

"I suppose," I say, putting my hands and my nose down. I look back to the elevators, which are passing us as they rise. "Should we wait for the others?"

"Sure," Hercules says. We wait a minute and our mentors and escort appear in an elevator stuffed with District 5 people.

"Ugh, those elevators are stuffy," Phil complains as he approaches the door. We back away to let him through and he throws the door open and storms in. Kronk quickly goes to the door and holds it open for us. The Mad Hatter skips into our suite and Hercules and I follow him.

I look around, surprised at the accommodations. Our district produces luxury items for the Capitol, but I'm still in awe of everything around here. There's chairs the color of gold that look as soft as cotton. There's a long, silver table set elegantly, no doubt the dining room table.

"This shall be your house for the duration of training," the Mad Hatter says as he spins around. He sounds like he's eating his tongue. He points to some doors that pop out of the dark marble to his left. "This is where your rooms are. You're on the left, Alice dear, and then HERcules" - he sometimes hiccups - "is on the right." He points to our mentors and says,"You, of course, know where your rooms are."

"Yeah, yeah we do," Phil says in an annoyed voice. I can tell that he's annoyed with everything. He must really not like the Capitol.

I go to my room with the Mad Hatter telling me to be ready for supper. I don't know if there's a way that I'm supposed to take off my big outfit, so I just sort of wriggle out of it and go into the shower. It's a fascinating thing, really, the shower. I get myself sprayed and my hair glopped with several different kinds of shampoos before I find the rinse button and climb out.

I go to my closet and it surprisingly pops open like magic. I put on a blue dress with a black sash around it and then go out to eat dinner with everyone.

We all eat hungrily from the dishes set by the table. I eat as much as I can while Hercules is demolishing plate after plate nonchalantly while he talks excitedly with Phil about his strategy.

After we've stuffed our faces with a fanciful cake that's filled with sparklers on top and tastes of butter and sugar and is the color of gold, we head to the TV and settle down in comfortable, strange looking chairs. I myself fall into a chair that sort of looks like a tea cup.

The Mad Hatter turns on the TV and we watch the Tributes Parade. I'm a little surprised at seeing myself on the TV wearing such a dress. I look a bit ridiculous, at least, people in District 1 would think I look ridiculous. I find myself and the rest of us to look sort of dreamy.

We get to the City Square and Maleficent does her speech. She backs away and our chariot disappear out of sight.

The TV suddenly switches off, and I realize that it's over.

"So," Phil says, looking to myself and Hercules. "What did you think? There anybody that looks threatening?"

I didn't particularly see anyone that stood out. If they did, I would have remembered them.

"Just us," Hercules smiles, looking at me with a sort of brotherly look. I've never had a brother. I smile and sitting up, say, "Yep. Just us."

**Now, I know that the Careers are not people portrayed as innocent little kids, but this is Alice, for pete's sake. She looks like an eight-year-old, you'll see what happens as the story plays out. Let me know if you liked it or not! **


	9. Wendy

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Disney or the Hunger Games. Now, the next chapter shall be in the point of view of a lad, fyi. Once again, I shall warn you: the winner of the Games might surprise and might anger you. Please don't be mad. :) Here is the point of view of Wendy!  
**

I'm in my bed, snuggling against all the blankets and covers, when suddenly a light turns on and I open my eyes.

"Oh, it's morning!" I say, sitting up, groaning slightly as I wipe at my eyes.

"Time to get up! It's the first day of training, my dear, and we must, must get going!" I look around to see District 6's escort, the green-feathered José Carioca, flicking at the light switch with his fancy walking stick. "Breakfast is waiting!" And he disappears out of the door.

I scramble out of bed and look through my closet. I put on a dark green bouncy tee-shirt and black pants before I brush my delicate curls. I sigh softly as I brush them. My mother used to brush them at home in the morning. I would sit in one of the chairs while my brothers, Michael and John, would run around with their wooden carved toys. My father would be annoyed with our dog Nana, who he thinks doesn't pull her weight. I like her very much, and so do the boys.

I guess I won't ever see those mornings again.

I sigh softly, and gently place a blue ribbon in my hair before I head out to the dining room.

Everyone else is already around the table. There's the Indian Chief, as we call him, and Tinker Bell, who's so tiny that she has to have a booster seat of sorts. They're our mentors, and by 'our,' I mean my and Peter Pan's mentors.

Peter sits, his red hair showing under a green cap, and he spots me.

"Hey, Wendy!" he says.

I can't help but slightly blush as I sit down across from him, saying softly, "Hello, Peter."

"Alright, now we remember what we decided you do today," says the Indian Chief in his deep voice.

"I'm going to be practicing on my acrobatic stuff," says Peter as Tinker Bell helps him get a roll. "Hey, thanks, Tink!"

"Pay attention," says the Indian Chief.

"Well, I'm going to try to learn how to make a fire and find out what berries to eat and not eat," says Peter. He smiles and says, "Is that everything?"

"Yes, that will do," says the Indian Chief (Tinker Bell smiles appreciatively at Peter) before he turns to me. He frowns as he says, "What you do?"

"I'll be trying to learn how to make a fire and figuring out what things to eat and not eat too," I say as I pour myself some tea and get myself toast and marmalade. "I'm going to be keeping quiet and see what alliances the others have."

"That right," the Indian Chief says.

"Neither I nor Peter are going to make alliances until we see everyone else and then we try," I continue. I look up from my toast and say, "Is that everything?"

"Yes, that do," says the Indian Chief before he turns to his venison sausage.

I turn back to my toast and eat slowly. I'm not very hungry. There's a lot of things in my very near future that I'm nervous for. The first thing, of course, is the training. All 24 of us tributes are going to be training together in the Training Room downstairs for two days. On the third day, we're going to go before the Gamemakers to see what our score is going to be. Our score could be as low as 1 or as high as a 12. It's nearly impossible to get a 12.

Our scores will be shown on TV and it'll help the sponsors decide what tributes they want to help in the arena.

My stomach starts to feel queasy and I push my plate away. Tinker Bell notices and with a huff, shoves it closer to me, determined to make me eat it. I shake my head, saying, "No thank you," and I shove it away.

She shoves it closer to me and we have a little battle before I sigh and eat the toast. She rolls her eyes and turns to give Peter more toast.

After breakfast, we all rest in our rooms before Peter and I head to the elevators at nine fifty-five so we'll be there at ten. I try to stay calm while being in an elevator with Peter as we head down several levels. He doesn't know it, but I'm made up stories about him (not lies and rumors; just fiction) and told them to my brothers to keep them entertained.

I've seen him at the community home with his own band of boys, who he calls the Lost Boys. They all play together, Peter is their leader, and Tinker Bell goes and helps at the home. That's why the two have such a nice relationship. I bet she wishes that he'd win instead of me. At least I have the Indian Chief to help me, even though he doesn't always sound pleased with me.

The elevator opens and we head into the Training Room. I open my mouth slightly as we look around.

There's many stations we see as we enter. There's a berry and leave identification station and a rope and obstacle course. There's balls and weights and bows and arrows and a fire making station and a camouflage station and stations that I can't even tell what they are.

A Peacekeepers puts tags with the number 6 on us and we head to the center where everyone else is.

I gulp as all of our eyes focus on a tall blonde-haired woman, who's muscly with tattoos and is chewing on something as she looks us all over.

"My name's Helga Katrina Sinclair," she says, and she spits before she says, "y'all will call me Lieutenant. You know why I'm here? You," she points to one of the boys, I believe the one from 8, and says, "why am I here?"

"To train us. Help us all not die two days into the Games," says the teen.

"That's right," Lieutenant says, spinning slowly so that she can see us all, "I'm here to make sure that you all last for a bit. I'm here to make sure you don't die of natural causes; no heat, dehydration, starvation, poisons, the usual. There's also the training to make sure that you get a little muscle; it'll help you in the Arena."

She begins to point to stations, explaining them and that you're not allowed to fight with other tributes. As she talks, I look around quietly. The rest of the tributes look tense, their hands formed in fists, some looking more nervous than others.

I gulp and look upward, beyond Lieutenant's head, to see the Gamemakers on their viewing stage. They'll be seeing everything here. They're drinking some sort of blue punch and are watching us with interest.

I gulp slightly and turn back to Lieutenant as soon as she says, "Alright, spread out, let's get some bodies moving! Let's go!" She claps her hands and we immediately spread out.

I look to Peter, who comes over to me and says, "Want to go check out the berry stuff together?"

I clasp my hands and say in a surprisingly calm voice, "Sure, let's do that, Peter."

We head over to the berry and food station and the instructors tells us what there is and helps us for an hour. Once we've learned a bit, we head over and try to each put together a fire.

I look around as I gather some sticks from the pile. There's the boy from 10 talking with the boy from 11, which is weird, since 11's huge compared to the boy, who must be twelve, my age.

"Hey, Peter," I say.

"Yeah, Wendy?" he says.

I point to the two and whisper, "What do you think they're doing?"

"I'm not sure," says Peter, and we hear the boy from 11 laugh at something that 10 said.

I frown and look down at my wood as I began to assemble a fire like the instructor had shown us. "Should we start forming alliances like the Indian Chief instructed us?" (Tinker Bell hasn't spoken one word since I've met her.)

"Hey, just wait a minute. After lunch, we'll try," says Peter with a smile.

I nod but still look worriedly over toward a bunch of people who are talking near the obstacle course. There's surprisingly the Careers from 4 talking to the tributes from 3 and the girl from 9. It's an odd combination, and I'm immediately becoming anxious, so I turn and start on my fire, trying to work my worriedness into the wood.

It's lunch when I finally get a flame. I add a stick to it hopefully and turn to the tables they have set up with lunch.

Everyone's in groups, and I don't know where I should sit, so I follow Peter. We take seats next to District 10. There's only one other really young tribute here like us, and she's sitting with the Career group, reigning from 1.

The girl from 10's on the far side of the table, bending over her food, a distant look on her face. The boy from 10 scoots over and begins to talk with Peter, who's enthusiastic.

I eat sandwiches and drink a strange blue drink while they talk. I leave them alone because I'm not sure they want to talk to me, so I'm startled when I hear Peter say, "Hey, Wendy, Mowgli wants to ask us about something."

When the Gamemakers let us go, Peter and I head up to our apartment. We're met by José Carioca, who's smiling knowingly, Tinker Bell, who has her hands on her hips, and the Indian Chief, who has his arms folded over his chest, all sitting around the dining room table.

"Alliances?" the Indian Chief wants to know.

I smile and look to Peter, who says, "Yeah, we have one."

I smile harder when I see a small smile grow on the Indian Chief's face.

**For some reason, almost every time I went to write 'Peter' his name came out on as 'Peeta.' I write a lot of HG fanfics, apparently. Thank you for reading, and please, let me know what you think!**


	10. Taran

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games. THANKIES FOR THE REVIEWS, Y'ALL ROCK. Here is the point of view of . . . . . Taran! (His movie is so unappreciated.)**

I mostly keep to myself for the most part the first days of training. Fflewddur Fflam and Gurgi, my and Eilonwy's mentors, are having us train separately. They say it's easier because we don't get along. We don't really. She thinks I'm not good at using a sword, which I had told Fflewddur I was good at. She thought I was lying.

I wasn't lying, per say. If I had a sword, I'd be good at using it, and that's why at training, I'm always at the sword station. Though she's not partnering with me, Eilonwy whispers angrily that I should try other stations. I shake my head and use the sword. Some girls just don't get stuff.

The sword is a bit harder than I thought it would be. Okay, a lot harder. The first day, it's nearly cutting off my feet and the instructor almost stops me. Every time I looked up from my sword, I saw people watching me. Tributes. Both from 1 and the girl from 2. While the Careers usually hang out a lot, these three do practically _everything _together. No doubt an alliance. They're probably watching me and figuring out what the best way to kill me would be.

I ignore them, and the second day, I improve greatly. I start dueling with the instructor, who keeps it a bit easy for me. We spar until lunch, and I actually feel pretty good, for in two hours I was able to flick the sword out of my instructor's hand. Not bad. I've always thought that if I had a sword I'd be good at using it. I'll prove Eilonwy wrong.

Lunch comes, and I'm about to go sit at a table with some of the middle districts when suddenly I hear, "Hey, you."

I turn around and I see the boy from 1 (more like a man. I'm a weed next to him) pointing a finger at me.

"I didn't do anything," I say quickly, hoping that he doesn't come and try to start a fight.

"You're having lunch with us," he says, and he points a finger at the girl from his district and the one from 2. Surprisingly, there's the boy from 12 there as well. I start to get a little confused as I move over to them. Careers just don't let _anyone _into their alliance, especially people from 12. Heck, they barely let anyone from any of the other districts into their alliances either.

I take a seat next to the girl from 2, who gives me a grim nod of approval. The girl from 1 almost gives me a grim wave before the boy from 1 sits down. The boy from 12 looks nervous. I hope I don't. Nervousness is weakness and I don't want to look weak in front of these guys.

"Hey. I'm Hercules," the boy from 1 says, pointing to himself. He points to the girl next to me and says, "That's Jasmine." He points to the other girl and 12 and says, "Alice, Quasimodo."

I smile shakily as Hercules, his presence taking up nearly the entire table, says lightly, "We've been watching you."

I want to say something along the lines of "I noticed," but I know that you shouldn't be cheeky with Careers. I instead gulp and say, "Is that good?"

Hercules looks to Jasmine, who gives him a nod, and he continues. "We've been watching, and we've been pretty pleased by what we've been seeing you do."

"Quasimodo as well, Hercules," says Alice.

"Oh, yeah. Those were some pretty heavy weights," says Hercules before he turns back to me. He frowns slightly and says, "You're joining our alliance. We need someone with a sword."

By the tone of his voice, I can tell that he doesn't want me to refuse. I nod and then we're called to get back to training. He gives me a quiet nod before he turns to Jasmine and Alice, and the three go off together.

I realize that I have barely eaten, and for once in my life, I don't care. I'm not hungry. I'm too shocked.

The rest of the day, I work on my sword fighting. If Hercules thought that I was doing a good job already, how great would it be if I got better? It'll sure help me in the arena, anyway.

As we depart, I head to the elevators with Eilonwy by my side. We're district partners after all, and heading to the same level. She frowns at me the entire wait for the elevator. I ignore her and make eye contact with Hercules, who gives me the subtlest of nods.

I share an elevator with 8 and 7, and they get off first. We're heading up the short level to our apartment and Eilonwy, her arms folded over her chest, finally spits, "Well, Careers! Aren't we high and mighty with our great sword skills!"

"Hey, at least I _made _an alliance!" I say defensively, turning to face her.

She smiles this smirking smile and says lightly, almost jokingly, "You didn't watch what I did at all, did you?"

"What?" I say, but the elevator door opens and she leaves, a weird smile on her face.

I look at her, and I scratch the back of my neck, puzzled, as I enter our apartment.

"Oh, goooodddddd, Master Taran and Miss Eilonwwwwyyyy are back," says Doli, our short, green and wrinkly, hoppy escort.

Fflewddur looks to us and says, "Well, how did things go?"

Eilonwy and I look at each other and I say, "I'm partnering with Careers." Eilonwy lets out a HURMPH! and I retort, "Hey, I can do what I want!"

"Oh, goody, goody, goody, Taran has made friends!" claps Gurgi, who, weirdly enough, is covered in fur. His curiosity let him to succumb to the fashion sense of the Capitol. "This is SOOOO excited, Gurgi is so happy that Taran has made friends!"

Eilonwy rolls her eyes and Fflewddur says, looking at her, "Apparently, not everybody is happy."

"I'll be in my room," she says, and she flounces away.

I look over to Fflewddur, and he just sighs, not sure what to do with her. Doli gives me a thumb's up and Gurgi bounces around excitedly. I watch him for a while before he hits his head and passes out on the floor.

* * *

It's the next day and it's time for us to go before the Gamemakers. Each tribute from each district, one at a time, girl first, then the boy, goes before the Gamemakers in a private session to show off their skills. The Gamemakers will give them a score that will be broadcasted.

We all sit on benches that line the wall. The Career tributes look calm and cool as they head in first. I start getting nervous. What if my sword doesn't go the way I want it to go?

I sit in agony and nervousness and try not to show it as I nervously tap my feet and clasp my hands. I decide that I'm doing a poor job when I hear myself getting called in.

I stand, gulp, and without looking back, head into the training room.

The first thing I see is the amount of weapons they have about the room. There's sword and bows and arrows and spears and big, huge sticks and heavy weights and balls and there's an obstacle course and camouflage station.

I know which thing I'm going to do, though. No choices for me. I walk over to the sword station and grasp a sword's handle, and am surprised by how heavy it is. I place it back and pick up one that isn't quite so heavy.

I grasp it with both hands and look over to the Gamemakers. They're on their own sort of stage in front of me. All are looking perfectly ridiculous in wigs with tattoos and dyed lips and skins. Many are drinking and eating, but most are watching me, drink in hand.

I straighten and say, "Taran Dallben, District 9."

I see the Head Gamemaker, a mousey sort of man with big, black ears named Mortimer. He takes a drink from his cup and then moves his hand around, signaling me to begin.

I gulp and raise the sword, and I begin. I start by hitting a few life size models of people that move and dodge. I pant, for they move quickly. Then I start beheading the stuffed figures of people. I can tell that I'm not doing enough, that I'm not exciting enough, for the Gamemakers are yawning and some are getting up to get some more food.

I realize that that's about all the stuff I can do with the sword. I slid it back into place, inwardly panicking. I haven't practiced with anything else, and the Gamemakers haven't released me yet.

I look at the other stations, and decide on the obstacle course. I have to show them more.

With a running start and a prayer, I start running over and under several obstacles, which are large and cumbersome, and most make me bruised and tired. I go on the ropes that hang from the ceiling and nearly fall before I reach the end of the rope part.

I avoid spinning spikes and balls before, panting, I stand at the end. I look over to the Gamemakers, and Mortimer says in a bored voice, "You may go."

"Thank you," I say politely before I jump off the platform I had made my way over to and walk to the door. I open it and slip out and over to the elevator. To my surprise, I look back at the door, and I feel myself lean against the wall and slide down in a sitting position. I don't know why, but I want to wait for Eilonwy.

My heart pounding, I wait nearly twenty minutes before I see her emerge.

She looks at me, confused, as she punches in the number into the elevator.

"Why are you down here?" she wants to know.

"I-I wanted to wait for you," I say as I stand up and follow her into the elevator.

"Whatever for?" she asks lightly, her arms folded as the doors close.

I shrug and push the button and say, "I don't know."

"There has to be a reason," she says quietly.

"I was just wondering how . . . you did . . ." I mumble lamely.

She smiles and says, "Well, you'll just have to learn my score like everyone else does." She sighs and I can tell that she's not sure how well she did.

My head pounds as I feel the elevator lift.

We step out and our mentors give us a nod as we head to our bedrooms. I close the door to mine and take a deep breath. Surely it didn't go as badly as I thought. Please, don't let it be as bad as I thought.

I look out the window, my head distracted, until dinner. We all eat together in the dining room, Gurgi gurgling over something or other, Doli slurping and Fflewddur quiet. Eilonwy eats quietly and I pick at my soup.

At dessert, which is a large cake in honor of our district, which is the grain district, and Fflewddur, taking a piece of cake, looks over to me and asks, "And how did you do in your training session, Taran?"

I gulp and say, "Okay, I guess."

"Used your sword?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, and I quickly begin to eat my cake so that he can't expect an answer from me.

After we eat, we all settle down by the big screen TV to see the scores for our competitors and ourselves. I bring my knees to my chest and hold them to myself and look to the other parts of my team. Fflewddur is nervously sitting in a rocking chair while Doli burrows into a squishy bag of a seat. Gurgi sits next to Eilonwy, who is smiling at him as he bounces all over the couch.

Fflewddur turns on the TV and we see Goofy, the announcer for the Games, sitting with pieces of paper, with our scores on it.

He starts us off with a laugh and then pictures start showing up, each one with a district number and a score number. Goofy reads the tribute's name and number before he goes to the next.

I gulp as we fly by 5, 6, 7, and 8. The Careers have their usual big scores. Hercules has an 11, making me even more nervous. Why did he want an alliance with me?

"Your turn, Taran," Fflewddur says, straightening a bit as my face shows up.

"Taran Dallben, with a score of five," and a five flies and sticks to my picture.

I don't know what to make of that score. It's about as much as I could have hoped for, and is the average for the middle districts.

"Good job, Taran," says Fflewddur.

"Gurgi is so proud of Taran!" yells Gurgi, and he starts bouncing even more.

"Calm down, Gurgi," I say, and I see Eilonwy looking intently at the screen as her picture appears.

"Eilonwy Llyr, with a score of five," and a five plasters to her picture.

Eilonwy smiles and says, "Will that do, Fflewddur?"

"Oh, yes, we can work with that," says Fflewddur, who looks even more relieved than we do.

Eilonwy turns to me and says, "Well, I guess we're about even, then."

I look at her a moment before I stammer, "I guess so."

She smiles softly and says, "We should get to bed. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, yes, bed!" says Doli.

I nod and stand up. We're in for one heck of a day tomorrow. Interviews. Hopefully I don't mess those up as much as I did with my private session. Hopefully.

**There, a lad! Thankies for reading, and please, let me know what you think!**


	11. Naveen

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Just to clear things up, EVERYONE IN THE GAMES IS HUMAN, you just have to use your imagination for beings like Donald, Gurgi and Sebastian! (Who shall the winner be . . . . you might overreact when you see who it is . . . .) Here is the point of view of Naveen! (Prince . . . . of Maldonia . . .)  
**

I wake up this morning by getting up and looking at my face in the mirror. Ahh, utter perfection. It's hard to always look good when you live in District 11, but _I _always manage to look handsome.

"Looking lovely today, yes?" I say to myself. I smile a white-toothed smile and head into the shower, which is a welcome change from District 11. We don't take too many showers in District 11, which is why most of our district smells. Most of it is sweat from people who get awfully sweaty. Luckily, I'm not one of those people. My father is the mayor of District 11, and so I don't have to go out into the fields to work. I go out and play on my ukelele to keep spirits up instead. I move inside when I start sweating, though.

I change into some clothes that look awesome on me and sigh as I head to breakfast. Ahh, gone are the days when I can play my ukelele, making the girls sigh in the fields. I'm now in the Capitol, and tonight is MY night to shine. It's the night of the -

"Interviews, now we're goin' to have to practice a bit for them," says Ray in his funny (a good funny, though) voice as we eat breakfast.

"What are we going to be doing?" I ask, looking toward the mentors for District 11, Ray and this old woman everyone calls Mama Odie. She went blind because of her Games but it seems like she can see everything.

"Welllll, boy, I'm going to be practicing with Tiana here," Mama Odie says, pointing to her right, knowing that Tiana is there, for it is her usual spot.

Ahh, Tiana, the girl from my district. A stranger person I have never met. She's barely smiled at all since the Reaping and she doesn't laugh at my hilariously funny jokes. She's one of the hardest working people in the Training Center, though, and she got a 7. Not bad, considering I got an 8. Probably because I looked so great showing off my muscles heaving weights.

Back in District 11, I'd see her at the fields, working hard, barely talking, never complaining. I'd always go near her and play to cheer her up but she's just glare and the Peacekeepers would give me another 'final' warning on disturbing the workers.

Now she nods at Mama Odie's words and says, "We've sure got a lot to do."

"Nervous, Tia?" I ask teasingly.

She glares at me and says, "It's _Tiana_." Under her breath, she whispers, "Only Lottie can call me that," and then she stands up, and looking to Mama Odie, she says, "I'll be back in an hour."

"Okay, chil'," says Mama Odie.

Lawrence, our escort, looks up from his food at the foot of the table and says, "Remember, ONE HOUR. We have to keep on schedule for the interviews."

I grin. "Ahh, yes, the easiest part of the Games."

"They should be a SE'nap, for you, Naveen," says Ray encouragingly, and he and I head into the living room where we start.

We decide to start on my posture and walking around for the Capitol before we get to the good stuff like my interview angle. It's fun, actually, for Ray doesn't know much about walking around like the Capitol people either. He's more of a sloucher, good old guy who doesn't care very much about how he looks when he walks.

Nearly an hour before lunch when we're doubling over with jokes, Lawrence comes in and commands me.

"Shoulders straight, chest out, and no strutting!" he says exasperatedly.

"But that's what you Capitolians do," I say in defense.

Lawrence glares and I good-naturedly roll my eyes and do what he says.

We head to eat lunch in the dining room and Tiana looks even more moody than usual.

"What's with you?" I laugh.

She sighs and sticks her foot out from under the table, revealing a high heeled shoe like the women in the Capitol wear.

It actually looks surprisingly nice on her, but she's mad as she says, trying to shove the shoe off, "I've been TRYING to wear this impractical THING but I keep trippin'. Who went and decided these were COOL!" and she manages to fling it across the room.

"Hey, no one ever said they were comfortable," I say.

"But they are the style, and young ladies all over are wearing them," says Lawrence.

"Maybe I don't WANT to wear them," says Tiana indignantly.

"I think you look LOVELY in them," I say, leaning forward with a teasing smile.

She looks at me and says, "Don't you go and make fun of me!"

"I'm not," I say, surprised but not too surprised she can't take a joke.

"Yes, yes you are," she says, and I shrug, and we don't talk at all during the rest of the meal. I look at her occasionally, and I wonder how she can't joke a little bit. I know it's the Disney Games, but she can't even find a little bit of happiness here in the Capitol. Tomorrow we're going into the arena, but she can't even try to make our last days a bit happy.

What a downer. A bit of a stick in the mud, if you ask me.

When we're done, Ray and I settle down in seats in the living room and we start on the conversation of what my angle should be for the interview. It's immediately obvious. I've going with something that fits my lovely and outgoing personality. I'm going to act as a charmer, a guy who makes the girls swoon.

"Sounds a bit different than I've done wit' others is the pas', but sure!" says Ray.

I grin. It's the angle I've been thinking of doing ever since I got on that train and I'm rather pleased with the fact I came up with it myself.

We discuss what the questions might be and how I should answer them. I'll be winking and smiling when I'm not talking, and trying to win over the crowd.

We work until four, when we have an early supper. Tiana comes in, frustrated, a few minutes late, and doesn't talk as she eats.

Once we're done, we're taken to where the interviews are going to take place. Tiana keeps a straight back and a sulky face while I find everything amusing. Everyone looks so ridiculous it's impossible to not find them funny looking.

Our mentors and Lawrence separate from us and our designers get us dressed.

I come out of my fitting room, looking in a mirror. I smile my charming smile and take in my awesome appearance. I'm wearing a light green long shirt and dark blue tight pants that compliments my awesome hair. I also have a green cape, that makes me feel awfully cool.

I saunter over to my fellow tributes and fall behind what I realize is -

"Tiana?" I say, surprised.

She turns. She has her hair up in a bun and is wearing a tiara on her head. She's wearing a sleeveless light blue dress with a sash tied up in a bow. She's also wearing a simple but pretty necklace.

"Did you want something, pretty boy?" she says sarcastically, though her tone sounding not angry but nervous.

"Just wonderin' if that was you. You look so . . ."

"Different?"

"Yeah, a bit." She actually looks . . . really stunning.

"Good. That was what I was going for."

Suddenly we hear the crowd and we all know that Genie is up on stage, ready for our interviews.

"Good. The show's starting," I say excitedly.

Tiana sighs, rolling her eyes, as she turns to face the back of the boy in my alliance, Mowgli from 10.

I wait excitedly as the people start to leave. First the Careers and 3, all evoking responses from the audience. The guy from 1 is big and is using that to his advantage. The boy from 3 is horribly nerdy, constantly pushing his glasses back up.

The amount of people left starts to decease. I smile encouragingly to the three in my alliance, Peter and Wendy from 6 and Mowgli. They're kids, sure, and small, but I know that they're nimble little things, they like my jokes and are good at turning their childish weapons from harmless children's games into deadly weapons. At lunch on the second day, Peter showed me a piece of paper that they rolled up to shoot poison darts. They had come up with the idea from using them to have spitting contests, and we can easily use leaves instead of paper in the arena.

Very resourceful, these kids, which is good, since I'm not too much into the working/killing department.

I hear Tiana's name getting called and I pay more attention. She enters the stage and Genie does wonderfully in making her not serious. She's going with . . . I don't know . . . the humble angle? I barely know the meaning of the word when I think of it applied to myself, but when I look at Tiana, smiling at Genie, I realize that it fits her rather well.

Genie calls time and she returns as I hear, "Our next tribute is the boy from District Eleven, Naveen Maldonia!"

I silently sigh as I walk to the stage. It's Mr. Naveen . . . . Maldonia! He could have even added my middle name, which is Of.

I smile a charming smile for the audience, though, for they're going crazy with excitement. I can obviously tell I can work this crowd. They're really, really gullible, and I can use that to my advantage.

I wink to a couple of girls in front and they actually swoon and faint. I grin harder and take my seat, shaking Genie's hand.

"Ahh, Naveen, such a bright young man. And a charmer too, I see, ey?" asks Genie with a little laugh. Genie has this way with people that makes them comfortable when they're not. Luckily, I'm not nervous, but I still like the guy. Apparently he's tied down to this job because of one of the Disney Rulers, Jafar. He stills manages to stay cheerful despite that fact, though.

I lean forward and push this out of my mind as I say, "Well, not to toot my own horn, but well, of course!"

"Does winking and smiling get them at home, Naveen, lad?" asks Genie. The crowd is still loud as they scream for an answer.

"Oh, yes. Playing a little music helps as well," I inform him and I wink at the crowd in the general direction of a bunch of girls, who scream louder.

"You play? Wow, I should have known the moment you came on stage that you were that tal-en-ted. What do you play?"

"Oh, ukelele," I say, waving a hand. "The girls love it!"

"Sounds great. I wish we could have you play, but we need to get to the rest of the interview!" laughs Genie.

"Fire away, Genie," I say, settling in my chair. This interviewing is as easy as I thought it would be.

"How did YOU feel the moment you got Reaped? What emotions were there? Anger, pride, excitement, surprise, what was it?" Genie says, moving his hands around like a box as if to see what emotion I fit in as having.

I laugh and say, "I was a bit surprised, to tell you the truth, Genie. There was so many hearts to leave behind . . . . BUT," I look to the audience, "there's so many here in the Capitol as well!"

The women nearly die and Genie nods, smiling understandingly. Once the clapping gets quiet, he asks, "So, what else have you liked in the Capitol besides our lovely ladies?"

I can almost feel Tiana rolling her eyes at this statement. "I really like the showers, oh, and the mirrors! There's so many, Genie. I can see why, though. We all want to see our beautiful faces whenever we can," and I smile a simple smile that gets the women really loud.

"I do love a good mirror, Naveen," laughs Genie, "and one more quick question: what will your strategy be in the Games?"

My smile fades as I say, a bit seriously, "I have . . . a bit of a different strategy than what you might expect."

"Really? I expect a guy like you to be in with some serious competitors," Genie says.

"I'm with some serious competitors," I say quickly, "just not the ones you might expect."

The buzzer sounds and Genie, smiling, reaches over and shakes my hand as we stand up. We turn to face the audience and Genie raises my hand up high, like I've already won, and shouts, "Ladies and gentlemen, Naveen Maldonnniaaaa!"

Naveen . . . . _of _Maldonia. I smile and I head back to where the other tributes are.

"Good job, Naveen, you really got the ladies going," says Tiana sarcastically, and I say, smiling slightly, "You liked it?"

She turns away and once 12 is done, Genie signs off and we all head back to our apartment, me smiling to myself. I had done brilliantly, just as I had expected to have done.

On the elevator to our apartment where it's just the five us for 11, Lawrence says, "Well, you certainly played being a charmer, Naveen."

"I wasn't playing at all," I say as we rise up.

A few seconds of silence passes before Tiana says quietly, "It's a whole new game we're playing tomorrow."

And she's right. And now I can only hope that I do as well in the arena as I did on stage.

**I hope you liked it, and please review!**


	12. Peter

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Here is the point of view of . . . Peter! (Or as Harry Styles would say, Peter Paaannnnnnn.)**

I'm having a nice dream of me playing with the Lost Boys when I suddenly wake up. Usually, everything is bright and nice in the morning, but today, I can tell that it's going to be a dark day.

I'm going into the arena today.

I get up and I put on some green clothes before I head out of my bedroom.

I look around the living room and dining room, but the only person I see is Wendy. Our mentors, Tinker Bell and the Indian Chief, said goodbye to us last night. They're going to be controlling our gifts and sponsors in their own special viewing rooms. Our escort, José Carioca, went with them.

She notices me and looks at the ground, saying, "Oh, good morning, Peter."

"Hey, Wendy," I say cheerfully as I grab a roll from the table where there's some fruit and bread. I look around and say, "Do you know when our stylists are coming?"

"Quite soon, I believe," she says, looking to the front door.

I nod and say, "Ready for today?"

She sighs and says, "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

"Hey, remember, we have Mowgli AND Naveen," I say quietly.

She nods and we wait a couple of minutes, and the door opens and in comes our stylists, the cat-like Si and Am, both yellow and wearing whiskers.

"It'ssss time," says Si, my stylist.

I turn to Wendy and say, "Well, Wendy, here we go."

She nods and the four of us head to the elevators. We go up, up, up and the doors open to reveal the roof.

"Wow," I say as I look around. The roof is smooth, and it looks like it's a landing zone.

"Quickkkkkk, our ridessss are here," says Am, and suddenly two hovercrafts appear out of thin air.

"That's amazing," I say as Si moves me toward one of the hovercrafts.

"Bye Peter," I hear, and I turn to see Wendy waving quietly toward me as Am leads her to the hovercraft.

"Good luck, Wendy," I say and Si says, "Hurry!"

I nod and turn and my hands reach for the ladder and once they do, I feel them become stuck and I can't move. I try wiggling, but my efforts do nothing, so I stand still, a little too surprised to ask Si what's happening.

Suddenly, I feel the ladder left up, and I look, amazed, as the ladder goes through a hole in the bottom of the hovercraft.

"Cool," I say, and I'm approached by one of the Capitol attendants.

"Hold still," she says, and she takes a needle and puts it into my arm, making me wince at the pain.

"What's that?" I ask as I watch her wipe the needle with a rag.

"It's a tracker. It's to make sure we know where you are when you're in the arena," explains the woman, and I feel the pull on the ladder go away and I leap down from the rungs.

The ladder goes down and brings up Si and then the hole closes up and Si says to me, "Take a seat."

We take seats and the hovercraft takes off.

I want to explore the entire ship, because it's really cool looking, but Si wants to me stay in his sight, so I do. I don't like it, though. I'm not good at staying still for long. I'm the kind of person who's constantly going around my district, which is 6. My Lost Boys all follow me and we have such fun adventures. It's kind of sad to think that I'll never be able to do that again.

We pull to a stop half an hour later and I experience the ladder again as we descend.

Si leads me to a tunnel, and it gets dark except for some lights. We walk for several minutes, and it takes forever. We twist and turn and it gets damp. We're going to the Launch Room. Our districts have a name for it. We call it the Stockyard, a place where animals go to slaughter.

I have no smile on my face now as we head to our room. It has couches and a bathroom and sofas and tables and chairs and stuff.

I get dressed in the clothes all tributes have to wear. A blue tank with a black jacket that can be tied around my waist when I don't need it. The jacket, when wet, lets the water slide off of it. I put on boots over my shoes and socks that go up to my knees and a pair of dark tan pants.

After that, Si sits in his chair while I munch on bread and play an occasional tune from my instrument that I brought with me from home. Each tribute gets to bring a piece of home into the arena, and I brought my pan pipes. Apparently, it barely made it past inspection, because it could alert people. In the end, they decided to let me have it, and I play a few notes while we wait.

After a while, Si stands up and says, "It's time."

Time already? I look up from my pan pipes and say, "Already?"

"Yessss, now get into the tube like a nicccccceeeeee boy," says Si. We both turn to see a plate emerge in the tube.

"Okay, okay," I say, a bit annoyed. I don't like getting ordered around by grownups. I walk over to the tube and step inside. It's a bit small, and I can only imagine how the boy from 1 is going to fit into his.

"Good luckkkkkk," says Si, and I nod as the clear walls of the tube closes, leaving me in silence, save for my own breathing.

Suddenly, I feel myself rising, and I look up to see if I can see the sun. There's not much of it, but I see a bit more as I rise higher and higher.

The plate reaches the top and I look around, careful to not step an inch off of my plate. If I do that, I'll be blown to bits.

We hear Goofy say loudly, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Disney Games begin!"

There's barely any sun at all, for it looks like we're all surrounded by tons and tons and tons of trees. The sky is getting covered up with leaves. The trees all have large leaves and huge trunks and everything is really, really hot.

It's really, really, REALLY warm. I look around and see that we're all in a rather tight circle. The next person next to me, the redheaded girl from 4, is only three feet away from me. The other person near me is the boy from 8, who could easily grab me and pummel me.

In front of us is the cornucopia, which is this big, gold colored horn. It doesn't even look like it's filled. People look at each other, confused, and I look to Wendy, who looks a bit worried.

Sweat starts to build on me. We only have about thirty seconds until the gong tells us to start.

I look to see that people are looking at people. Three of the Careers are looking at the boys from 9 and 12. The girl from 9 is looking at the Careers from 4 and a couple of others. I look and see Mowgli, who nods slowly, and then Naveen, who looks a bit lost.

I wonder how we all look on TV. I wonder if the Lost Boys are cheering or waiting silently as they watch me. I know them, though, and they're going to be cheering. Hopefully, I'll make it pass the bloodbath, which is the first kills near the cornucopia.

It feels a bit tense, which is not a feeling I normally feel. I'm usually very happy, but I frown now as I look around. I'm going to need something to protect myself with. I can only hope that there's something deep in the cornucopia, or I can make something from these trees.

I gulp and suddenly the gong sounds, and things become a blur as I run.

**THEY'RE IN THE ARENA NOW. I don't know if I should say 'yay' or not. Anyway, here's something that bothers me: growing up, I always thought that Si and Am were boys, but then I see that they were voiced by girls and my mom, after being asked, says they're girls. *Blinks* I'M JUST GOING TO GO WITH THEM BEING BOYS YES GOOD ON WE GO. **

**Anyway, please let me know what you think!  
**


	13. Eilonwy

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Here is the point of view of the lovely Eilonwy!**

The gong sounds and everyone goes crazy, running about. I know my plan, which is pretty simple. Despite what Taran has said, I DO have an alliance, and I just need to get to my alliance.

I fly off my plate, slightly worried and slightly hopeful when I see that there's no weapons in the cornucopia. No visible weapons, anyway. If anyone is going to get weapons, they're going to have to look deep into the cornucopia.

I spot Ariel, one of the people in my alliance, and race to her. She spots me and starts running as well and we run into the leaves just as we hear a girlish scream fill the air.

The first kill.

We run into the dense leaves a few feet before we turn and sit down behind some leaves, watching anxiously. I'm quite sure that these leaves will cover us enough so that we can wait for Eric and the tributes from District 3.

I breathe heavily as we watch the bloodbath start to play out near the cornucopia. People are darting away from the circle of plates into the jungle. The boy Career from 1 is actually fighting the boy Career from 2, letting Eric slip into the cornucopia undetected.

I suddenly gasp as I feel someone sit next to us, and Ariel and I turn to see Milo. He's turned around so that he's leaning against our lookout and is panting as he slides his glasses back up into place.

"Got a knife," he says.

"You did?" I ask. I'm a bit surprised. He's the skinniest boy from the first four districts and yet he managed to procure a weapon.

"Eric tossed it to me," he admits. I nod, pleased. More weapons for our alliance is always good.

"Is Belle here yet?" he asks, tugging on his jacket as he gets into position like us, peering out of the shelter of the leaves.

We all look out and we see that Belle is making her way through, avoiding the girl from 2. The tributes from 7 are moving in on the cornucopia and the boy from 8 has grabbed his district girl's hand and is nearly pulling her away as I see something wave around in her hand and something on his shoulder.

I see Taran is sneaking out of the cornucopia, a noticeable bloody nose on him. He's holding a sword. I frown. I suppose that he must have been in there before Eric and had managed to defend himself with the sword, or else Eric would have taken him down if he didn't have a sword.

"Did he kill Eric?" asks Ariel hurriedly.

"No, I don't think so," says Milo, and sure enough, Eric appears out of the mouth of the cornucopia, sporting a cut on his hand but holding two swords and a bag on his shoulder that could be filled with any sort of things.

Belle drops next to us and Eric notices her and hurries over to us.

"Let's go, quickly," he says, looking over to see the Careers and Taran and the boy from 12 starting to gather supplies as they finish with their dead bodies. Besides them and the bodies, everyone else has run. I wonder why he sounds so worried. He's a Career; maybe it's the fact that he's in an alliance with three other people who are not Careers.

"Yeah, let's," says Milo, and we all stand and quickly hurry into the woods. The last thing I see as I disappear is that District 5 is gone.

We're a hundred yards from the cornucopia when cannons shout out the deaths.

We all stand still and count under our breaths, and when they're done, we all look at each other in surprise.

"Four?" we all say in surprise. That's the lowest number of people to die in the bloodbath . . . . ever. I look around, shocked. How could that happen? Did everyone just disappear so quickly that they couldn't be caught? Was it because two of the Careers weren't killing but instead getting to their alliance?

"Okay, that's just strange," says Milo.

"Four is not a lot," says Belle.

"That means there's still nineteen who have to die," says Ariel.

"The Capitol should enjoy this," I said venomously. With there still being a bloodbath but not too many of us dying there, that means that there will be a lot of separate deaths, meaning the Capitol should be thoroughly entertained all the time.

"Yeah," says Eric, and he gets down on one knee and starts to put everything he retrieved from the cornucopia on the ground. "We should be safe enough from those who have the cornucopia," he says. We're counting on the fact that the other Careers and their alliance are too busy setting up their supplies and the other tributes are too busy running in separate directions to notice us.

I nod and we all lean down to see him unpack everything. There's the two swords and Milo has his knife. The bag reveals iodine, a package of crackers, two knives and a bunch of hooks and string. Ariel and Eric smile at each other when they see this. They're from District 4, and so I'm guessing that anything like hooks and string is priceless to them.

"We better each have a weapon," says Eric. "I'll hold onto the bag." We nod. We know it's only fair that he gets to hold it since he retrieved it. Besides, it's better to not get into an argument over something as petty as a bag with a Career.

Eric and Milo each get a sword while Milo's knife goes to Belle. Ariel and I each get a knife and Eric, throwing the bag over his shoulder, says, "Shall we try to find some water?"

Ariel nods and we all start to follow Eric. If we find water, not only will we stay hydrated, but we're bound to get some fish as well. I do like fish, especially when it's cooked.

The jungle we're in is very strange, but I like it, for it's colorful. It's warm, very warm, with lots of humidity, but its trees have these huge leaves and there's tons of multicolored flowers everywhere, sprouting out of the ground, out of the trees. In the high branches of the trees, I can hear birds calling to each other. I smile. Birds calling to each other reminds me of home, where there's this kind of bird called iavins.

Back in the Dark Days, the Capitol made these genetically altered birds called iagos. They were supposed to be used to steal information from the rebels and tell the information to the Capitol. Unfortunately for them, these birds backfired on them when the rebels found out about them and gave them false information to bring back to the Capitol.

They became disbanded when they were released into the wild of the districts, but they survived. They got together with these birds, these large things called kevins, and now there's talking, rainbow but predominantly red colored birds that are hopping around, barely able to fly because of their heavy bodies.

Wait. Those ARE iavins in the trees.

I point them out and ask, "Have any of you seen those before?"

Eric nods as he snaps a branch. "We see them around the beach a lot in Four."

I nod and Milo says, "We see them on occasion."

"Yeah, when we leave the house," says Belle. She says, "We rarely go out and see nature. We're just . . ."

I imagine things are kind of grey in District 3 and without another word, we begin walking.

After a few hours, we all begin to pant more and more. We haven't eaten anything except a couple of crackers each to hold over our stomachs, which were too nervous to be filled this morning in the Launch Rooms.

I find a walking stick and I use that as I move some of my sweaty blonde hair out of my face. The temperature was hot to begin with, but throughout the day it's been inching and inching up the thermometer. It must be nearly ninety degrees, and in the real world it's only June!

By the real world I mean the districts and I guess the Capitol. The arena is a whole 'nother world, cut off from everything except for the cameras. The cameras. I wonder who they're on now. There hasn't been any more cannons since the bloodbath so nobody else has died. Maybe the cameras are focused on us right now. It would make a bit of sense, considering we're a rather big alliance of five, but we must look awfully boring just walking and observing the wildlife.

I pant and look about, trying to find anything in the broad-leaved trees. We need to find a stream or a river or a lake or a pond and SOON. Not only for water but for food as well.

I look to Eric and hope that he doesn't step on a snake in the covered ground as he leads us.

"Anything yet?" asks Ariel.

"No," says Eric, slashing the leaves away from him. "You'd THINK that these leaves would have water on them."

I nod and say, "There's too much water vapor for there to NOT be any water."

"That's the Gamemakers for you," says Eric, and we continue on through the foliage.

We keep walking, our legs growing so tired that they feel like jelly. Belle and I put our arms around each other's shoulders to keep up after eight hours of walking and finally Eric says, looking toward the sky, "It's getting too dark to go any farther."

"We have to find water, though," says Milo.

Eric shrugs and says firmly, "Then you find us some water."

"Okay, okay," says Milo. He looks around and says, "We need to find mud or animals. Those birds had to drink too."

"So where we find lots of birds we find water," says Belle quickly.

"Exactly. That means we have to go on a bit longer," says Milo.

"But we can barely SEE," I say, looking around. "It's getting dark."

"Well, we can go a few more yards," says Milo. "Wait, let's wait until the seal appears. Then there'll be light."

"That might work," says Ariel, and we all nod except for Eric, who says, "The seal will only appear for a few minutes!"

"Then we're going to have to move fast," says Milo, and just as he stops speaking, a magnificent sound fills the arena, and we all look up into the sky to see a large white stripe fill the sky.

"Okay," says Milo, "everyone look for the birds and see if there any mud except Eilonwy."

"What do I do?" I say, whirling toward him.

"Look and see who's gone," he says, and his eyes and everyone else's is on the ground, searching for mud, and in the sky, looking for birds.

"There's one!" Belle yells, and points to one of the iavins that's a few yards from us in the lower branches of one of the trees.

"Scare it and it might move and lead us to water!" says Milo, and we start to run.

I start to stumble and Belle grabs my hand and with her guiding me, I look up at the sky.

The first face that shows up, to my surprise, is the boy from 2, looking a bit grim with black hair framing his face. Next there's the boy, who looks barely twelve, from 5 and the blonde haired girl from 5. After that, there's a little red haired girl from 10 and then the seal stops and my head turns and I shout, "Found it yet?"

"Yes! Yes!" whoops Milo, for we're fairly certain we haven't been followed for eight hours.

I let out a sigh of delight and look to the dim face of Belle, who looks delighted as well, and we dart after Ariel, Eric and Milo.

We step out of the jungle to see a long, flowing river in front of us. I look to my left and see water falling from above. To my right is little rocks and tons of flowing, gurgling water.

Milo catches his breath as we approach the water. He frowns slightly as he says, "We need to clean this water."

"Can't we just drink it now?" asks Ariel. I nod. She should know things like this with water. She lives in District 4.

"No, the Gamemakers might have done something to it."

"We have iodine," says Eric, and we turn to see him holding out the bottle of iodine.

"Yes, but we need a container to put the water in to add the iodine," says Milo, massaging his forehead. "We can't just dump all of it into the water. New water is coming in, replacing the old water."

We look at each other for a moment, all trying to think. I look around the dark jungle and Belle gets the same idea I get at the same time.

"We can use the leaves," we say. Milo looks at me and I say, "We-we can fold the leaves and use them as cups."

"That'll take a bit of time, but I'm sure we can do it," he says, and Eric says, "Shall we make a bit of camp, then?"

We all agree to start sitting up a camp. Since I'm the best in making fires, I gather some sticks and start to quickly produce a fire. Sparks fly and I coax them together with one of the broad leaves.

Belle and Milo make several not cups but bowls, for the leaves are rather stiff and hard to keep in a shape. They bend the sides up instead and we have our own bowls. I add more wood to the fire as Milo carefully puts the slightest bit of iodine into each leaf.

Eric and Ariel have taken the string and hooks and fish, and they manage to get five nice-but-not-too-nice (we're in the Disney Games, after all) fish. Eric cleans them quickly and sticks them on sticks and I add more wood to the fire, proud as I see it grow higher. If anyone spots it and tries to attack it, they're going to have to face five tributes, including two Careers, all armed.

We're each given a fish stick and we prop it over the fire and we watch them roast when Milo says the water is ready.

We all drink eagerly from our leaves, leaving some for later.

Milo sighs and says, "This is better."

Eric nods, leaning against a tree as he says, "Yeah. Finally, fishing, something I know how to do."

"You were just improvising with leading us through a Gamemaker trapped jungle, then?" says Belle with a slight smile as she folds her arms and leans against a tree as well.

"He did a good job," says Ariel quickly in his defense.

I smile and as the fire crackles, I look around at the watchful but at the moment peaceful looking faces of my alliance. I realize that I'm in the Disney Games, and so far, I'm not doing too bad.

**QUICKY UPDATEY. THERE. ARENA. HAIIIIII . . . . .**

**Anyways, thank you for reading, and please, let me know what you think!  
**


	14. Milo

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Here is the point of view of Milo!**

Pretty soon our fish is cooked and we strip the skeleton free of its meat and once we're done eating, we throw the bones into the river. If we left the bones laying around, pretty soon we'd attract some unwelcome visitors.

The fire cackles and we all sit back. I wipe at my glasses (darn things won't stay clean) and putting them on, say, "So, now that we've found water, what's the game plan?"

"We need to somehow figure out how to store this water in order for us to be able to carry it," says Eric. I nod. We're going to always have to stay near water, and this is the only place we've seen all day. I highly doubt that we want to stay tied down to this river, for how can we attack tributes if all we do is stay within walking distance of here?

We all sit for a few minutes, thinking. Obviously, we're going to need something water proof. I look around, and all the things I can see that are water proof are all the leaves. I look over to Belle, seeing if she has thought of something, and then I find something.

"I have an idea," I say, and I take off my jacket, laying it on the ground. It's a dark blue and it's soft on the inside, almost like it's a jacket covered with water proof material. I smile as I lay the jacket flat on the ground. "I'm going to cut off the material on the outside of my jacket and I'm going to use it to line the inside of Eric's bag," I say, pointing to the bag, which is sitting next to him. "We can use our pockets to hold the crackers, string and hooks, and we'll always have water."

I look up and everyone nods, though Belle leans forward and says, "Will you be able to use the rest of your jacket -"

"As a jacket? Sure, why not?" and I take out my knife and begin to careful peel away the material from my jacket. Once I'm done, I ask for Eric to hand me the bag. He does, and I see the things that were in it are out beside him as I grab the bag.

"Hey, can we spare a bit of string?" I say, and Eric hands me some.

I give him a thank you nod and I grab a twig and whittle into it with my knife to make a needle. Hopefully, it'll be sharp enough to work. My colleagues start to gather more wood as Ariel gets more water ready to drink.

I manage to make a well enough needle and start to sew the material into the bag.

"Do you know how to sew?" asks Ariel, and I nod as I bite my lip as I slip my string through a hole, which is too small.

"It's something I've picked up over the years," I say as I tug the string through. I start to make several holes that all line up at the very top so that if I make too big of a hole, water won't leak through it.

They nod, though Eric throws me a weird look, and they start to gather leaves as I work on the bag. As I work on my monotonous work, I start thinking about how the day's gone so far.

I have to admit, I don't think I'll last long in the arena. I'm just glad that I didn't get killed at the very beginning at the cornucopia. My eyes look away from my work for a moment and I watch my fellow tributes start to assemble their beds. I never thought that I'd even be in an alliance, never mind one with two Careers in it. They're the bigger, stronger tributes in the Hunger Games, and are known to be arrogant, huge kids.

However, Ariel and Eric, they're neither. They're a bit bigger than us, that's for sure, but they're not HUGE, or arrogant for that matter. They have a twinge, but theirs is nothing like the usual Careers. I wonder how the other Careers are doing at the cornucopia. The boy from 2 is gone, but I saw 1 partner with the girl from 2, and a couple of other redheaded boys from other random districts, not something I suspected they'd do.

Still, I never thought that me, a nerdy kid from 3, would partner with Careers and other tributes. Go figure.

I finish with the bag and bite off the string as the others finish with their beds.

"How's it look?" asks Ariel, approaching me.

"I think it might work," I say as Eilonwy grabs one of the water bowls and carefully pours its contents into the bag. Eric and Belle look over their shoulders and we all watch.

"It works," says Belle, impressed, after a moment.

Eric nods and Eilonwy and Ariel race to get the rest of the water, most of it is what Ariel had just added iodine to that is now fine. They quickly pour the water into the bag which I hold, and soon my hands are shaking.

"That's enough," I say, and I zip up the bag and carefully hand it to a sitting down Eric, who's on his bed of leaves.

I turn and look to see Eilonwy patting a tall pile of leaves.

"These are for you," she says kindly from her own bed, where she's on her stomach, clutching leaves to her chest like a makeshift pillow.

"Thanks," I say, a little surprised. Nobody in District 3 really pays attention to me, or my weird ideas, which are different from those that the Capitol gives us to perform. To have someone recognize something I came up with on my own and be nice to me is weird, but very nice.

I take the leaves and lay out my own bed, careful to overlap over the damp ground, for I really don't want to sleep on the ground.

I take off my glasses as Eric says, "I'll take the first watch."

"I'll take the next," says Belle from her own bed. "You need sleep too."

"I'll take after her," says Ariel quickly.

"Then Milo and I shall sleep in peace," says Eilonwy teasingly.

I nod and lay down on my leaf bed, my glasses attached to my tank, my hands under my head so that they form a pillow for my head.

"Hey," I say, looking up at the dark sky, an occasional bird passing my vision, "night, you guys."

"Good night, Milo," says Eilonwy, and the others murmur their good nights.

I look at the sky, and I wonder if there's going to be any stars tonight when my eyes close and I fall asleep.

* * *

I wake up, sitting up quickly at the loud scream of panic that rings through the jungle.

"What the heck?" I say quickly as I fumble for my glasses. I unclasp them from my shirt and look around. Everyone is on their groggy feet as Ariel screams, "Mutts!"

All of our heads whip to see the animals she's pointing to. They're coming from where we had come yesterday, all yellow looking long, sleek cats with black spots, all running quickly at us.

"Leopards," I say before we all bolt, following the river.

The rush of the water fills my ears as I run, fast as I can, trying to get away from the leopards. I've never been good at running. It's just not in me. I can run, of course, but not for long distances. I spend too much time inside, and now's not one of the only times I regret that fact.

My feet pound against the ground and I hear the sound of the leopards, all surprisingly quiet as their feet hit the ground. They look similar to cheetahs, their way faster relatives native to this faraway ancient continent called Africa, but they look different.

I pant and I wonder if the Gamemakers know my weakness, which is obviously running.

I hear Eilonwy and Belle pass me, their breathing hard and fast, and I dig in deep to try to run faster. I won't let myself get attacked by these things. They're not even real leopards. They're mutts; they're made by the Capitol. They're real in the sense they can cause real pain and real destruction, but they _aren't real_.

That's the last thing I think before I feel something grab me by the ankle and drag me down. I let out a yelp and I feel more and more of them sink their yellow teeth into my flesh.

My legs, my booted feet, and now since I'm on the ground, my back, my shoulders, my arms, my hands, and . . . . my neck.

With a crunch . . . . everything goes black.

**YES. He's gone. Surprise ending, R.I.P. Milo. I'M SO SORRY. Thankies for reading, and please, let me know what you think!**


	15. Eric

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Thankies for actually liking this story which I'm trying to update daily. Here is the point of view of Eric!**

I'm running, running ahead of the girls and Milo, the water-filled bag banging against my side, my flute (my token from District 4) in my jacket pocket banging against me, when I hear it. The sound of a yelp and leopards on a kill. I turn my head for a moment and I see them, several dozen yards away, all over Milo.

I stop running, for there's none chasing us now. I look from the leopards, who are completely covering Milo, to the girls. Belle looks surprised and scared, her hair falling out of a ponytail. Eilonwy has a hand over her mouth and Ariel looks shocked.

My mouth opens in surprise. The first of our alliance is dead, just on the second day. We had been doing so well yesterday; too well. The Gamemakers had decided to wake us early with a little feral surprise.

"Oh my gosh," says Ariel as we see the leopards' necks crane back, no doubt looking to see where the rest of their prey is. I gulp at the disgusting sounds. This is disgusting. Milo had just been alive, running, and now he's gone.

A loud blast of a cannon sounds and a large wind suddenly appears from the sky, and we all instantly gasp and put our hands over our ears, which are now ringing. They ring hard, filling my ears with sound waves and the loud sound of air that is being pushed down.

A hovercraft appears above the burst of air and the leopards shirk away. A claw goes down and carefully lefts up Milo's body. He goes up, and the door goes over the ladder, and the hovercraft disappears.

I slowly let my hands slide off of my ears and look to the leopards. I can hear the sound of the girls' controlled breathing. The leopards are circling where the hovercraft had been, where the circle was marked with blood, and suddenly they all look at us.

I know if we run they'll chase us, for running entices them. But if we don't run, they could just go after us anyway and we'll have a lesser chance of getting away from them alive. I wonder how many of us will have to die by the mutts before the Gamemakers call them back, for as easily as they can put them in the arena, they can take them out.

That's when the leopards roar and their long legs leap forward, and they start to run toward us.

"Run, run!" I say, and we begin to run as fast as we can by the river. I remember what the mentors for District 4, my district, said about my strengths.

"You're okay at running, Eric, but you're much better and faster in the water," David had said.

"YES. Try to swim in the water, Eric, and you too, Ariel," Sebastian had said firmly.

We're running right by the river. I'm not sure if leopards can swim. Here's the chance to find out.

I look to Ariel, who's a few steps behind me toward my right, and I shout, "The river, now!"

"Now?" she yells, and the sound of the leopards makes her lips set in a determined way.

I look back, wasting precious seconds, for I slow so that I won't fall hard if I trip on something I can't see, to Belle and Eilonwy, and yell, "Into the river!"

I don't wait to listen to their replies of protest and I reach out and grab Ariel's hand, for she's caught up to me, and together we turn quickly and make a running jump into the fast, flowing river.

Our feet hit the river and I immediately feel warm, for water like this is never straight up cold, especially in this stifling heat. The next thing I feel is Ariel's hand being wrenched from mine, water up my nose and my body being pushed quickly down the river.

I instantly swim up, having not realized that this river is THIS deep. I was counting on a good ten, fifteen feet, but this is nearly twenty five. I rise, and the bag floats next to me as I cough.

Looking around hurriedly, I see Eilonwy come up, choking and moving her hands about. Belle does the same, and I realize as they move about frantically that they don't know how to swim.

All my life, in District 4, I've known how to swim, as long as I've remembered. Ever since I was a little child, I was swimming in the water. After my parents, the mayor and his wife of District 4, died in a boating accident, a new mayor was proclaimed and I was going to go to the children's home when my dear old tutor, Grimsby, volunteered to take me in, for I still had some money from my rich (as rich as you can get for living in the districts) parents, and all I needed was someone to stay with.

With Grimsby watching me, I went out in the sea, swimming, fishing, soon learning how to drive a boat. Swimming was and is such a natural feeling I can't help but be surprised that some people don't know that feeling at all.

Keeping myself afloat, I look about and Ariel pops up, and despite the rapid waters, she's swimming like a fish.

She looks about and says, "Use your legs and your hands to keep afloat! No point in swimming in water you have no control over!"

She's right. They don't need to know how to swim. They just need to know how to not sink.

They move their arms and legs about and we all manage to stay afloat in the turbulent waters.

I turn and see the leopards still running alongside the river. Most of them are slowing down, and the ones at the front are falling back, fading away, knowing that they can't get at us.

I smile slightly and turn to see that Ariel isn't with us.

"Where's Ariel!" I yell, for though I don't know much about the redheaded girl, she's from my district, and she's a nice girl.

"She swam ahead," yells Eilonwy, "she -" but suddenly her face goes pale and she says in a quivering voice, "did you feel that?"

"Feel what?" I yell above the rapids, and suddenly I feel something against my legs, lots of somethings swimming about, hitting my legs.

I look back to Eilonwy, and I see her about to say something when she's pulled down, her mouth agape, and her muffled screams fill the air as blood fills the water.

I can barely comprehend what has happened to her when I hear Belle scream and I look farther ahead to see her go down as well.

I'm panicked now. What's in these waters? I look around, and I feel something nip at my feet.

I don't want to go under, for what's down there will surely get me. What is it? I'm not counting on a big monster. It took down the girls, and they were several yards ahead of me.

I breathe heavily and something bites my leg. I let out nothing as I wiggle my leg, and another bites my leg and stays on. I wiggle, harder and harder, as more of them attach themselves to my body. They're coming onto my torso too, and one bites my hand. I gasp at the pain and left my hand up to reveal -

"Piranhas," I whisper under my breath. I've never seen these in the Games or even in Disney before. I've only read about them in books about fishes. They must have been created by the Capitol to bear resemblance to be like them. They've modified fish to be like them by adding teeth. They look strikingly like piranha, and that's what I decide to call them as they bite at my body, tearing me apart.

I stop trying to float as they attack me, breaking into my body, and the last thing I see is redness in the water. My own blood.

**This ending is kind of morbid. I didn't intend for it to be like that, but piranhas are rabid fishies, of course. Well, I hope you liked it and please, review!**


	16. Quasimodo

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Those who are dead are: Eric, Eilonwy, Belle, Aurora, Arthur, Aladdin, Milo and Penny. Guest, if you would check out Ronnie343's review for chapter four, the name of those in the Games is there (except Ralph is actually Hercules). And here is the point of view of Quasimodo. **

Hercules, Alice, Taran and I are walking about the jungle. We've left Jasmine to watch over the cornucopia yesterday afternoon and had walked until we got too tired. We had been sleeping when we heard screams, and we followed them to a roaring river just in time to see the boy Career from 4 getting tore apart in the water.

I gulp while we watch as the three cannons go off and the hovercrafts pick up his body and two more. The last two bodies look like girls, but that's all I can tell about who they were.

I gasp, and Hercules turns to me, saying, "You okay, Twelve?"

"I'm-I'm fine," I stutter, when in reality all this killing and blood is making me sick to my stomach. I've barely been able to stomach watching the Disney Games, and I only watch it because I have to. If I had the choice, I'd never watch them.

So now not only do I not like watching the Disney Games on TV, I'm now IN the Disney Games. It's not something I had been anticipating. I've always lived in a house in the Village in District 12, being hidden there by my master, Judge Frollo, who is actually one of the Rulers of Disney. I suppose I had been hoping that since he was my caretaker, I wouldn't be Reaped. But when I saw him at the Tribute Parade, he had looked at me with such fury that I felt that I had done something wrong to deserve this.

"Do you think there's anymore of them here?" asks little Alice.

"Probably. Let's look," says Hercules, and we all straighten and start to walk down the river. Taran and I both look sick, though probably I look worse. His district partner is gone, but he manages to stay looking even, despite the limp in his step, which he's gotten due to walking so much.

I have a spear and he has a sword and Hercules has his massive strength and a large sword while Alice had several little daggers. I use the spear mostly for a walking stick, for I don't think that I'll actually be able to force myself to use it. I'm not a killer. I love people. I find them all fascinating, and killing them is such a new and terrifying experience I hope that I don't partake in it. I'd rather die myself, frankly.

We follow the river and Hercules lets out a low whistle when we see someone on the rocks of the river, seemingly unharmed. It's the redheaded Career girl, and she's coughing violently on the rocks.

"Hey, it's the girl who sided with the other districts," says Hercules as we get closer to her. She looks up and she starts to say something but she must have swallowed too much water, and no words come out of her mouth.

"We could have had you in our alliance, with the _stronger _tributes, not a bunch of girls and the nerdy kid from Three, but apparently you decided not to," says Hercules, though no longer in the usual Career taunting voice. He sounds a bit annoyed (and, concerned? I don't know) as we get closer to her.

The girl tried to speak, but Hercules doesn't let her talk as he takes his sword and takes her down, leaving her laying about the rocks as he draws out his sword.

I gasp again, and I feel sick, ready to throw up, as Hercules wipes his blade and says, "One less competitor."

Alice and Taran nod but I don't as we all back away and a cannon shot is heard. A hovercraft appears, and its claw comes down and picks up her limp body, and takes her up into the ship before it flies off.

"How many left?" asks Hercules.

"Fourteen," says Taran in a shaky voice. "Why so many deaths?"

"Probably to make up for the fact that everyone got away from the cornucopia and there was only four deaths there. Not enough for the Gamemakers, apparently," says Hercules quietly. He looks about and says, "Let's find the others."

Fourteen. Fourteen tributes who have to die before a victor can be crowned. I gulp as we begin to walk, and I wonder where the rest of the tributes are. There's all those little kids and 11, who separated. There's myself and Snow White, who is not dead. Yet. I hope we don't find her. I don't want to see her die.

There's District 8, who ran away together, who I haven't seen yet, the same with 7. They're probably partnered with their district partners.

I wonder now if separating from Snow White is a good move. An alliance with the Careers and Taran is not a bad thing, but I feel guilty, like I'm betraying District 12, and Snow White.

She's a lovely girl, who got along well with our mentors, Laverne and Hugo, two of my friends, and our escort, Clopin. I once again hope we don't find her because I don't want to watch her die.

She's only fourteen.

We walk along the river, and that's when we heard humming. We all instantly are a bit ill at ease, for humming could mean hornets. Yellow jackets. Or worse, Winnie the Pooh bees. They're one of the mutts the Capitol has created. This was this guy named Winnie the Pooh that once provoked these seemingly normal looking bees in one Game, and they went after him with no mercy.

They're merciless little buggers, and I'd rather not meet up with them. I can tell that Hercules is thinking the same thing, for though he's a Career, he's tense.

We all stand still for a moment, and my heart's racing. The humming suddenly picks up a sweet note, and I realize that's not the hum of an animal. It's the hum of a girl, and I gulp when I recognize it as the voice of Snow White.

Unfortunately, Hercules realizes that it's not Winnie the Pooh bees as well, and he straightens and says quietly, "That's another tribute."

"Should we go find him, or-or her?" asks Alice.

Hercules sighs, and he sounds a bit regretful as he says, "We'd better. Get another out of the way."

Inwardly I start to panic as I slowly follow Hercules, Taran and Alice. No. We can't go after her. I don't want to watch her die, for I know that even against a smaller tribute, she wouldn't be able to protect herself. She's too kind, too good to harm anyone, even someone who's after her life.

I hope that Hercules does it and not me.

We find her walking about the jungle, looking at the flowers, some gathered in her little white hands. A docile smile is on her face as she says, looking up to the iavins, "Oh, hello there. How are you today?"

The birds chirps back, "Oh, hello there. How are you today?"

Snow White giggles and says, "Oh, what a lovely bird!"

And that's when Hercules moves in and I stand behind him and cover my ears, the birds calling out her last words.

After that, Hercules turns away and Taran looks at me strangely before he follows him.

I gulp and do not turn around, for I do not want to see such a lovely little girl gone. Instead, I start walking behind Hercules, and the cannons shout out her murder.

"Are you all right?" I turn to my side to see Alice walking quickly to keep up with me.

"I just . . . she was from my district," I say as I hear a hovercraft approach her behind me.

"I know," Alice replies. I can see now in my mind a claw lowering to take her up. "But we have to do it, or the Capitol will . . ."

"Yeah," I say quickly, for talking ill of the Capitol in the arena means a sure death and I want to cut the conversation off. I hear the hovercraft leave.

She nods and we start walking, Hercules saying, "We should get back to the cornucopia before it gets dark again."

We all nod and follow him. I lag behind, a bit depressed. The Disney Games honestly is the worst thing, and I hate it. At knowing that Snow White is dead, I realize I don't want to be in this arena anymore.

I continue walking after them, though, for I don't know what else to do. I can't just kill myself. Suicide was not something that happened a lot in the Games, for it was known that if you could survive and win, you would. But what do I have to go back to in District 12? The knowledge that sweet Snow White died and I hung back behind her killer, not even trying to stop him?

I didn't stop him because I knew that he had to. The Capitol was making him do it, and if it wasn't him, it would be her. I feel myself grow angry when I think of the Capitol. Frollo came by once a year to check up on me, and he always told me that the Capitol was good, that it was trying to protect the districts of Disney. I see that they're not trying to protect them when they kill a young girl.

I suddenly really do not want to go back to District 12. All that's there is nothing but greyness, Frollo's eyes and lies. I don't want to go back.

We pass a bunch of brightly colored flowers and I see one oozing with something. It looks to be red, and somewhat dangerous. Looking toward my companions and seeing no one behind me, I pick the flower, and I take a bit of the nectar on my tongue.

I know no flower here is going to be helpful to anyone. Anyone but me. This way, I won't have to be killed with pain and blood. I know it's a bit stupid to go and kill yourself in the Disney Games, but I don't care. I'm not going to make anyone else in this arena feel the guilt of killing me like the guilt I feel for every dead tribute.

The poison begins to flow all over me, through my blood, and I feel my throat constrict as I fall to the ground. I hear footsteps coming over to me, but I close my ears and I feel myself let go as the pain overwhelms me.

I keep my face calm until my heart stops beating.

**YES. QUASI IS GONE. UGH. I HATE WRITING THESE DEATHS. I FEEL RATHER HORRIBLE. Ahhhhh *feels guilty* The reason I wrote Quasi feeling so bad about Snow's death is as follows: she's from his district, meaning automatically a bit a guilt, and as we have seen him with Esmeralda, he thinks that this girl is so innocent and sweet that she doesn't deserve to die. Hopefully his decision makes a bit of sense.**

**I also made Hercules a bit soft because you know what? I'm trying to keep him vaguely in character even though he is a Career, and he really is not a very violent guy on his own, you know? He doesn't want to hurt anyone unless he has to, you know? That's what I got out of his character, anyway.  
**

** Well, let me know what you think as I sit in my puddle of guilt. :(**


	17. Jasmine

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Wow, you guys do not react well to character deaths, and frankly neither do I, *sniff* Here's the point of view of Jasmine! **

I'm near the cornucopia, keeping watch. I have a sword by my side and I stand in front of the opening, my finger wrapped tightly around the hilt of the weapon. My black hair's in a ponytail and it waves slightly in a little breeze, which is welcome.

It's the afternoon of day two, and I wonder when to expect my alliance to be back. Yesterday, Hercules headed out with Alice, Taran and Quasi, leaving me to watch the cornucopia. I don't mind watching the supplies too much, but I wonder if he underestimates my skills. He took Alice with him because he wanted to keep her close, for she was his district partner, but he had taken the two boys, who were from _weaker districts _mind you.

I'm quiet and a bit sullen as I wait. My district partner is gone. Aladdin managed to get himself killed on the first day, in the bloodbath, no less. I admit that I thought he would last longer. Though, looking back, I wonder if he intended to die during the bloodbath.

He was quiet during our ride to the Capitol. Nobody had volunteered for him at the Reaping, so I thought he was strong. Our mentors, though, John Smith and Thomas Bale, had told me that he was a wanted criminal, and I realize that he was the infamous robber who was the one constantly stealing from the Village's stores. I don't like stealing, and he tried to act like he never had had a criminal record.

I remember on training day two, it was at supper, and I had formed an alliance with Hercules, Taran, Quasi and Alice, and had told John, Thomas and our escort, the weird Wiggins. And Aladdin.

"And have you been forming alliances as well, since you're not in this one?" John had asked him.

I had leaned back to look at Aladdin, who was scratching the back of his neck before he said arrogantly, "Ahh, yeah, I've-I've got an alliance. Got some of the other Careers to help me."

I had frowned and said sharply, "That's a lie. You haven't been anywhere near Four, or anywhere near the other people in their alliance!"

Aladdin had opened his mouth when Thomas asked me, "What?"

I had watched Aladdin grew uneasy as I explained, "Four's getting into an alliance with Three and the girl from Nine, and Aladdin has been hanging out in the weight lifting department for the past two days." I had looked venomously at him as I said, "They're trying to help you. DON'T lie to them."

I had pushed back my chair from the table and had avoided Aladdin since. I don't like liars either.

And now he's gone because he didn't have an alliance. He was being stupid. He could have asked me if I could have let him into mine, and we could've discussed it and let him in, but he didn't. So he's gone. In the bloodbath.

I wonder who killed him. I didn't see him die.

I've been surviving by myself for almost twenty four hours now, eating a few things from the bountiful food in the cornucopia and drinking from the water canteens, and I think I'm doing pretty good. I haven't killed anyone except for the girl from 10, but that's simply because nobody's been near the cornucopia except me and my alliance since the bloodbath. I saw the hovercrafts lift up the bodies and last night watched the anthem play while it displayed the pictures of those who died.

Over the past several hours, I've heard seven cannon shots. I wonder how many of those are courtesy of the Capitol with their mutts. I've been thinking that they might be making up for the fact that the bloodbath was lesser than usual.

I frown at their sickeningly disgusting tactics. But still, that means that eleven are gone. Only twelve have to go until I win. I wonder how I'm supposed to take down Hercules, and the boy from 11, who had looked huge, but stupid. Hopefully, he won't be too hard to take down.

I crack my neck, for I'm in a position that I've been in for a while. I crane my neck and look to my left, my sword ready to attack, for I've just heard a noise coming from the trees. I'm ready to pounce on them, except, of course, if they're my alliance. In that case, I'll have to learn to restrain myself.

The leaves move about and I hear Hercules talking to Taran, and I put my sword down to my side as I walk toward them. They appear out of the green foliage, sticking out in the greenness.

"Hi, Jasmine," says Alice as she appears from behind Hercules. Taran nods as he stands at Hercules's side and I nod as I crane my neck to look for Quasi. I don't see him and I remember that I heard a cannon a few hours ago. Was that him?

"Where's Quasi?" I ask, one hand on my hip.

Hercules puts down the bag he was carrying and says, "The guy killed himself."

"He KILLED himself?!" I ask incredulously as we move back toward the cornucopia, which is just a few feet away. "Why on earth did he do that?"

"I don't know," Hercules says as Alice and Taran disappear into the cornucopia with the weapons that they're sick of carrying, "but I had just killed the girl from his district, Snow White or something, a few minutes before he did it."

"That's not reason enough to go and kill yourself," I say. I frown. It's a perplexing puzzle as to why Quasi killed himself.

Alice pops her head out of the cornucopia, and holds out a canteen of water. Hercules quickly takes it and takes a large gulp as she says quietly, "Maybe he wanted to die on his own terms?"

Hercules's head pulls back to normal and he and I exchange a look. That's traitorous talk, at least, to the Capitol.

"He probably went to sniff the flower and somehow got the nectar in his mouth," shrugs Hercules. "A mistake on his part."

I nod quickly, taking his answer as the answer, not Alice's. "That's two. What was the other deaths?"

"Both from Three, both from Four and the girl from Nine," pipes up Alice, sticking her head once again out from behind the cornucopia.

My eyes grow a bit wide as I look to Hercules, who's bent over, wiping his dirty jacket on the tiny green plants that are in the circle that's surrounded by the plates, now deactivated.

"Two Careers," I say, and he nods.

"Only us three left, then," he says solemnly.

His voice says what I'm thinking. Three Careers with only two days in. Who would have thought of that? The Careers (which is our nationally dubbed name) are the six powerful people from the three best districts. How could half of us be gone in two days?

I frown as I think, leaning against the warm cornucopia. With half of us gone, there's a likelier chance that we might not win. There is still twelve people, and three of us are Careers. We're outnumbered 4 to 1.

I straighten quickly. Why I am thinking such things? None of these tributes intimidate me except for Hercules and maybe the boy from 11. I'm a Career. I'm better trained, mentally and physically, than these bewildered kids who got Reaped. I've kept myself looking and feeling like a Career: intimidating, calculating, smart. I'm better than most of these tributes. I shouldn't be worried, especially since I'm working with Alice and Hercules. Taran is disposable. We don't need him.

I look to Hercules and say in a low voice, "Do we even need Taran?"

Hercules looks at me, a bit perplexed, before he turns to look at the cornucopia. He looks back to me and says, "Why do you feel the need to get rid of him?"

"I just . . ." I don't know how to reply. I don't even know why I want him gone. "He's not a Career."

"So?" says Hercules. "He can use a sword. He's fine."

"Okay," I say, but I look over his bent body just the same to see if Taran has heard me. I shake my head and turn away, looking to the jungle. I shouldn't be so wary. I'm a Career and he's a kid from 9. Calm down, Jasmine.

It's now when we get attacked.

Maybe I should be so wary.

I've never thought I'd have to be wary of the guy from 11 and his little band of children.

They're all around us, hiding in the green. The three kids are all armed with slingshots. The redheaded boy comes slowly out of the leaves as we hurry to the mouth of the cornucopia to get weapons, Taran and Alice peeking their heads out of the cornucopia to see what's happening.

The girl, I think I heard her being called Wendy, pulls back her slingshot and takes a shot at Alice, who gets hit in the forehead. Her eyes roll back and she slumps to the ground as I turn to the inside of the cornucopia.

Hercules rushes out with a big spear and so does Taran with his sword. I frantically reach out in the darkness of the cornucopia, hoping that I don't slice or cut myself on a stray weapon from the weapon pile.

I eventually grab a dagger from the pile and rush out, my imposing body feeling the rush of a surprise like this.

Wendy aims another stone and I duck as I hear a noise that sounds like grunting.

I turn to see Hercules and the boy from 11, who I hear one of the boys call, "Naveen!" They're wrestling on the ground, both of their bodies strong as they grunt, rolling about over the plates, touching the tips of green leaves with their legs.

All of the rest of us stop moving, me with my dagger, Taran with his sword. I don't know why, but neither of us go after the other three kids. Maybe it's because they're watching as well, for the two biggest guys in the Games are part of two different alliances, and everything will change if one of them kills the other.

Hercules is on top of Naveen, sporting a bloody nose, when we hear the cannon for Alice.

We now just wait for another cannon to fire when one of them wins.

**To confirm, ALICE IS D-E-A-D. Poor girl. **

**Sawry that these chapters aren't longer. :(  
**

**I wanted to do 'Vas happenin?'" instead of 'what's happening' but I fought the urge to do so. **

**Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, and please let me know what you think!  
**


	18. Hercules

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. I have this all planned out already, so there's already a decided winner which will probably not make any of youse happy. I should also have you know that you can die from getting a stone to the forehead like that. A slingshot produces speed that propels a rock at your skull which can cause brain damage. It's legit.  
**

**(Y'all want a particular character to win, and so do I! So, be warned, the character I chose to win might surprise and/or anger you . . . .) **

**Here is the point of view of Hercules! (And thankies to all because you are all awesome!)  
**

I'm on top of him and he's under me. I'm bigger than he is, and I have easily pinned him. In less than three minutes too. Though, by the other districts' usual tributes, he's on the bigger scale.

He's struggling against me. I'm sitting on him, keeping him down. My knees are on his shoulders and upper arms, keeping him down, and his lower arms are wriggling around like fish.

I'm panting, the effort of keeping 11 in this position causing a bit of a toll on me. My muscles contract and I need to decide how to kill him. I know that if I don't, he'll kill me, which I'd rather he wouldn't.

There's no rock to bash against his head, and I'm not going to ask for any of my alliance to fetch me a weapon. I should have a weapon on me now, and I don't, and I curse and reprimand myself for being so stupid as to not carrying a weapon in the Disney Games. A stupid move, and I made it. So I'm going to have to kill him with my bare hands, to show that I don't need a weapon that I forgot to pick up.

He wriggles under my grasp, but I keep him down with my knees. I have my hands free, and with my bare hands, I crack his neck.

I can feel a visible wince as I hear the gasp of a little girl behind me as I stand up. I back away, cracking my knuckles, and everyone else moves back too. Jasmine and Taran join me by the back of the cornucopia as a hovercraft appears and its claw gently goes down and picks up his body, taking him out of sight. Another one appears, and it takes up little Alice. I watch with a pang of pain in my heart before I look at the ground.

As it disappears, I look around, and I don't see any of the three kids.

"Where did they go?" I say quietly.

"I don't know," Taran says quietly, and I turn to Jasmine, who hands me a spear and a sword, which she has quickly picked up from the stack of weapons in the cornucopia.

"We'll take them down, one by one," she says. "We each take one and then return to the cornucopia."

I nod and say, "Sounds good," and I look to Taran, who says nothing as he grabs a pack from the cornucopia. Jasmine and I do the same. We're going to hunt down those kids, and we're going to have to be prepared to be far from the cornucopia for a long time.

We each grab a bag and pack it with lots of food and canteens of water. Tributes have been falling like flies. So many are gone, and it's been two days. At this point, despite the fact that the bloodbath was small, this could be the shortest Disney Games ever.

Not that I mind. Getting home sooner is not something I don't like. District 1 is going to have their victor this year, and now, as I look at where Alice's body had been, I sigh and hope that I can take it home for my district.

We each split, and I know that Jasmine and I not going to come back to the cornucopia unless the kids are gone. We're Careers; we don't fail. Coming back without having gone and killed them (I gulp. These Games really are disgusting) will amount to shame and no sponsors. We need sponsors.

I begin walking through the jungle, hoping that I'll be able to locate one of the kids soon. It's been hot since we entered this arena, and the sooner I can get out of it, the better.

My sandals crash against the foliage. I wonder how the sponsors are doing now. Kronk and Phil must be getting us some, and the Mad Hatter is probably helping them, though I don't know if people will listen to him.

Kronk, I know, was the victor a couple of years ago, and he is very popular. He's nice and strong and very charming. He made up for the fact that even though Phil is a great trainer and mentor, he's a horrible people person, and he won't get us, er, me, any sponsors. Hopefully Kronk will be able to pull it off. I'm sure he can. He's Kronk.

It's beginning to get dark and I decide it's time to set up a camp. I find a clear area that doesn't have many leaves near it to catch fire and build up a fire quickly. That is only one of my many skills, making fire quickly, and hopefully the sponsors can see that I'm an all around perfect Career to invest in.

I begin to heat up some dried meat when I hear a cannon. I smile slightly. One of the kids must be gone. Only two more to go. It's near, the cannon shot, and I wonder if those kids are sticking together. Maybe, or maybe not. Depends on how many Taran or Jasmine can take down at a time.

I eat and make myself a bed, keeping a stern look on my face to keep the sponsors happy. Sponsors like gruff and strong looking Careers.

I lie on my bed and watch as the anthem of Disney plays. A castle of sorts getting covered with glitter before Disney shows up in fancy writing. After that, while music plays, the pictures of the tributes with their district number appears.

First is little Alice, looking a bit smug to make up for her small size in her picture. I smile sadly as she's replaced by District 3. After them comes District 4, and I sit up in surprise when I see Taran up there with the girl from his district. What the hell?

Did he run into one of the other districts, 7 or 8? Neither of the kids from 6 appeared. Did he get killed by any of those kids? He had a sword. What weapon did they have that he hadn't had?

Did Jasmine kill him? She had questioned me earlier over why we had him in our alliance. What if she . . . she didn't look like the person who listened to orders . . . maybe she did kill him . . . .

I'm momentarily shaken at his death but conceal it well for the cameras, who may be focused on me because my district partner, a Career, is gone, and I've just seen her picture up in the sky, and may be still stuck on me and my reaction to the other deaths. I keep a grim, annoyed-with-the-world face on while I watch the boy from 11 and District 12 fly by. Wow. 10 people in one day. That's more than the bloodbath had been yesterday.

I wonder if how the Capitol is taking to everything. Probably freaking out over how many are going so quickly and how the fact that there's only 2 Careers left. There's only Jasmine and myself left, and I wonder how many sponsors we're getting because of it. Are we getting sponsors flying to our mentors' door or do we have sponsors hurrying to the other districts' mentors' doors, sure that Jasmine and I'll be taken down just as easily?

I lie down and close my eyes, trying to push out all thoughts so I can fall asleep. I don't like thinking too much. I like doing things and talking about things and having fun. All this thinking is making me get a headache. So I try to fall asleep, because I don't want to think.

* * *

The next day is overwhelmingly hot. I collect all of my things that I had messed about on the ground, sweating bullets. I hope that the food in my pack won't spoil as I put a piece of jerky in my mouth as I put my bag's strap on my shoulder.

My skin is slick with sweat as I put my jacket in my bag as I walk through the jungle, my sword precariously being held with my other hand.

I head out into the jungle, using the sword to slice away the leaves in front of me. I spy several of the brightly colored iavins but ignore them. They're not the beings I'm after. I need to find one of those little kids before I head back to the cornucopia.

I look about for obvious snatches of human life. There's no broken branches or torn leaves or trodden ground. I'm breaking a new path as I walk through the jungle, listening to the whistles of the iavins and other exotic birds.

My eyes search, but I find nothing. I break for a lunch of crackers and jerky, which lasts for a while. Like the names implies, it's jerky, and really chewy. It tastes of meat and it keeps myself busy as I walk, almost aimlessly, through the jungle.

I hear no shouts or cannon shots all day and I fear that the cameras are on me, so I hold my sword in a slaying position and whisper, "Come out, come out, Six, come out, Ten." Hopefully that'll hold the Capitol over as I begin to walk more swiftly into the jungle.

I take a turn and start to walk slowly about, actually making my way back, though it looks like I'm just going in a wiggly line. I'm sure now that they didn't go too far away from the cornucopia. How far could their little legs go, anyway?

A cannon shot fills the air just as I see the sun start to set. I'm much closer to the cornucopia now. I wonder now who is the one who died. A little kid. Jasmine, the remaining Career besides me. Another tribute that I haven't seen since the beginning.

I make a fire as the sun disappears to cook a small bird I took down with my sword. I'm hungry for fresh, hot meat, and this dried stuff isn't counting for much. Feathers are torn from the little bird's body and I stick it on my sword and hold it over my fire as I lean against a tree. Once it's done, I eat it right off of the sword, ripping the bones off of it.

I look up when I see the anthem playing. All we have for today is . . . I nod slightly when I see the little girl from 6, her brown curls contrasting with her blue clothes, appear on the screen. Jasmine did her job, or someone did it for her.

The next day, I decide to head back to the cornucopia. The two little boys are bound to be near there, trying to stay near it in case they can sneakily get into our stores. We still have plenty of food in the cornucopia, and Jasmine might be back there yet.

I walk as quickly as I can, my sword swinging. I look about a little, but mostly keep my eyes on the path in front of me. Okay. Alice is gone. Aladdin is gone. 3, 4, and 5 are gone. The girl from 6 is gone. 7 and 8 are still here. 9 is gone. The boy from 10 remains and so does the girl from 11. The boy from 11 is gone along with District 12. This leaves only eight people to take out. The next person to go leaves the final eight, whose family members will be interviewed.

I'm sure I'll get to the final eight. My mother and father will be interviewed, and they'll be so proud of me. So will Meg, the sarcastic girl I talk to sometimes around the district. Phil should have a ball dealing with all the people asking about me.

It's early afternoon when I hear a cannon go off. I look around and suddenly see a hovercraft materialize next to me. I open my mouth, surprised, to see the body of Jasmine rise up, her arms and legs sprawled about, looking unharmed.

The hovercraft disappears, leaving me wondering how she died. She didn't look at all wet, which meant that she didn't drown. Did she get strangled?

The next question was: who killed her? Were they still around?

My sword is ready as I shift my bag to get into a better position. I'm ready as I head to where the hovercraft was. Her killer may still be in that general area.

I walk over but see no one. I look around suspiciously, my sword out and ready, slowly walking in a circle, looking about. They still had to be here.

I hear a sudden noise and turn quickly, my sword poised, to see both boys, 6 and 10, with shooters and darts that are dripping with something in the branches of a tree.

Oh. Poison darts. No blood in that.

**Hopefully we're not moving along TOO quickly as we are now on day 4. And . . . final 8 already. . . . . huh. **

**Anyways, I hope you liked it and please, let me know what you think?  
**

**(Oh, and P.S., please don't fire at me while I ask you all to check out my new Tangled story, The Sticky Duckling. That is all, *slips away*.)  
**


	19. Mowgli

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. The list of the dead is: Alice, Jasmine, Aladdin, Belle, Milo, Ariel, Eric, Aurora, Arthur, Wendy, Eilonwy, Taran, Penny, Naveen, Snow White and Quasimodo. The list of those alive is: Hercules, Peter, Jane, Tarzan, Rapunzel, Eugene, Mowgli and Tiana. That is all. **

**Here is the point of view of Mowgli!**

Peter and I are hidden in the leaves, but the Career, Hercules sees us, and stops to stare at us. Peter and I look grim as we hold up our shooters. Together, we've made darts out of sticks with iavin feathers that we've plucked from their wings. Peter and I are good at leaping from tree to tree, and yesterday we made a pack of darts. We dipped them into the poisonous nectar of colorful flowers and we used them to take down the other Career, Jasmine. Peter was especially keen on doing so since she was the one who took down Wendy.

He took her death awfully hard. I wonder if they knew each other in their district.

The leaves have mostly concealed us, and we had used this tactic of sneaking around to take out Jasmine. I don't think it'll work now that Hercules has seen us.

We have darts in our shooters, which are rolled up leaves Peter and I made out of leaves. They're heavily cracked, but they've been working. We're ready to shoot and we hold them away from our mouths as we take a deep breath. With air, we bring them to our mouths to shoot when Hercules, grunting, sends a sword flying at us.

My shooter falls from my mouth and I leap from the tree's branches onto the hard ground. I roll around a bit and I hear Peter climb quietly down as Hercules comes running toward us.

Gasping, I instantly turn and run. My feet leap about, moving away from the big trees as I run. My hand reaches into my pocket, searching for more darts, for the one that had been in my shooter has fallen out. I run faster when I hear Hercules coming crashing toward us. I see Peter running a couple of yards apart from me, and he doesn't look to be breathing hard as he runs fiercely.

"We need to shoot him!" I yell, and he nods. My hand searches my pocket helplessly when I realize I put my darts in my little pack.

Still running and keeping an eye on what's ahead of me, my hand goes to a pouch that's attached to a belt around my waist. The past day I've seen no one but Peter and a couple of tributes running about and taking things from the cornucopia, for Jasmine and Hercules hadn't been near at it at all. Peter and I had taken a couple of packs full of food and a couple of canteens, waiting for a tribute to be within hitting range.

My hand unzips the uneven pouch and grabs a dart, knocking two to the ground. I have no time to pick them up, for I can hear Hercules coming closer and closer, wielding a spear he's been carrying around with him. I insert the dart into my shooter as I take a deep breath (which is hard to do when I'm running so hard) and turn around. I spot Hercules, and he's crashing toward me.

I blow out, and my arrow falls two feet in front of me.

Pathetic. I quickly try to grab another one but Hercules is coming closer and closer. I hadn't zipped up my pouch, which is a good thing at the moment as I grab an dart, put it in, and turn and shoot. He's two feet in front of me, and I get him in the neck.

He grabs my jacket and pulls me down with him as his strength slowly goes out because of the poison. I let out a yell as his sheer weight brings me pain. He nearly falls on me, and is still stirring. I gasp and wriggle when I see that he's slowly moving the hand holding the spear.

A dart shoots through the air and hits Hercules another time in the neck. He lets out a pained gasp and he falls limp.

I begin to wriggle out of his grasp when I see a hand. I look up to see Peter, who is not smiling as he helps me up.

"Thanks," I say quietly, looking back at Hercules. I look down at my pouch, which is open and looking almost empty, and say, "Most of my darts are under him now."

"We can make more," says Peter, and he reminds me, "the hovercraft is coming. We'd better move."

We walk a few feet before we stop and turn to see a hovercraft taking Hercules's body to the Capitol to be redressed and taken back in a box to his family. I gulp when I realize that Peter and I KILLED someone.

We only did it because we have to. "Kill or be killed," Bagheera had said to Penny and I on our day on the train. "You're one or the other, at the end of the Disney Games."

Bagheera is our mentor along with Mufasa, who both won tons of years back. They're working at the moment with our escorts Jasper and Horace. They're kinda creepy escorts, and are even more ugly than everyone else in the Capitol. They look like the tributes from District 12. Always covered in coal dust.

I wonder if Bagheera and Mufasa are going to send me a gift soon. Not only did I just help Peter take down the last Career, I haven't got anything yet. I'm thinking it's because I'm a little kid from District 10 and not many people are putting money on me. Hopefully, once again, taking down Hercules is all I had to do to get their attention.

We watch the hovercraft disappear and Peter voices what he's thinking. "Who do you think will win, now that all the Careers are gone?"

"I don't know," I say. I smile a small smile and say, "Maybe one of us."

"Who knows," says Peter, and he turns serious as he says, "Let's head back to the cornucopia. There's more food there."

"Do you think that those other tributes will come back again?" I ask. There's been some tributes coming in, sneaking into the cornucopia. It's interesting, that we're all so near. This is probably the reason that Goofy hasn't called for a feast yet.

A feast is usually something that comes about later in the Disney Games, when there's not too many tributes left. Goofy calls for them, and the feasts are usually at the cornucopia, for that's the only place everyone has seen and knows.

He entices the tributes to come, and there could be a huge feast, or little food that the tributes have to fight for. With everyone not dying of starvation yet, there's no real need to call a feast, especially when we're all so close.

We're heading to the cornucopia when suddenly we look up to see two parachutes heading down toward us. We both smile as we reach out and grab them, hopeful for what our mentors might have sent us.

I open mine to see a plate straight from the Capitol. Hot stew and fruit and a steaming drink, and also a real shooter with darts.

I look to Peter and he has the same.

"Guess we'll be heading to the end if we're getting hot food," he said, and I nod and we each let out a whoop before we cover the parachutes to keep the food in. We're a bit loud, but we're sure that no one can hear us.

I'm proven wrong when I see two tributes swinging in on vines, carrying swords, looking fit to kill.

**So now we're down to SEVEN. Thankies for reading, and please, let me know what you think!**


	20. Tarzan

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Only 7 people left and 5 chapters! Who shall go and who shall stay? Here's the point of view of Tarzan!**

Jane and I were up in the trees. Growing up in District 7, you hang around a lot of trees at a very young age. Jane, though, grew up in the higher part of District 7, and barely knew how to climb a tree.

I had been teaching her how to climb the past four days. We've been spending most of our time to ourselves, and we haven't met up with any other tributes except for the girl from District 11 since the cornucopia. We both haven't killed anyone yet, which is a good thing.

We were swinging around on vines when we heard and saw two boys with parachutes. Though we've been near the cornucopia to take a few things from it, parachutes are usually very important, because they have stuff you can't get in the arena.

"Shall we take them out, then?" Jane had gulped from her branch. We were both on branches, holding onto vines, ready to fly.

"Yes," I say, for I know that the fewer tributes left in this arena the better chance I have to making it home.

She gulped and said, "Well, alright then."

"Take your sword," I said, for she has one and I have a spear we keep in our belts.

She nodded and took up her sword with one hand while I took my spear from my belt. We each grabbed a tighter hold on the vines and I said, turning to her, "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever been, Tarzan," she said shakily. "Let's go and get this over with."

I nodded, and holding on tighter to the vine, I let out a loud and long yell as I swing onto the vine, riding it. I often yell like that in the district, and the Peacekeepers were always glaring, yelling and warning me.

I hear Jane let out a throaty, strangled cry as well. We went down, and the two boys notice us and begin to run.

Riding smoothly on my vine, I slowly go down it so that I'm almost at the end of it. The redheaded boy is just within my reach. He's running fast, but I'm faster. I reach down and my long arm hooks him on his collar, and I pull him up as I find a neat landing at the top of a branch that a dozen feet from the ground.

He wriggles in my grasp as I climb down, not wanting to do anything so high up. My heart slightly hurts when he grunts. He's this little kid, and I'm going to have to end his life, not something that I want to do. Not something that I want to do at all.

I take him down the tree before I actually take him down. I take his parachute and turn away toward Jane, who's on the ground and backed up against a tree. She's heaving, holding a parachute in her hand, the body of the other little kid a few yards away.

"Oh my goodness. Oh my, oh my, oh my goodness," she says quickly.

I approach her and say, "It's done."

Two cannon shots go off and she nods, saying, "We should go, so the hovercrafts can take them away."

I nod and I gently grab her hand. She doesn't resist as I begin to walk. She's trembling under my grasp and we can feel the hovercrafts picking up the bodies. That means only five people left. Four days and five people left. Nineteen people are gone and four more have to go.

"I wonder what my father has to say in his interview," says Jane absentmindedly as we walk to nowhere in particular. "He likes talking to people. He's good with this sort of things. Likes doing it, too."

I nod, though I don't understand much of what she's saying. I've never grown up with a real father. Only an adoptive one that didn't and doesn't like me very much. My adoptive mother, Kala, likes me very much, and is no doubt doing good in her interview. My stepfather, Kerchak, probably will have to do the interview, though he'll be very surly the whole time.

I'm not sure what I should say to Jane, so I say, "I bet he'll tell everyone how good you are at doing things."

She lets out a light laugh and says, "I wish. There's nothing much I'm good at, except for drawing. Oh, I LOVE drawing. It's awfully good fun, have you ever tried drawing, Tarzan?"

I shake my head and say, "I spend time outside a lot."

"I can tell," she says kindly, "you're very good at swinging on those vines, which is a good skill to have."

"Thanks," I say. I'm surprised by how nice she is. I'm not used to being complimented. I'm used to be called 'different' and 'not like us' by Kerchak. Jane is a totally different person than Kerchak is. She's nice and she's interesting. She's half and half. She's a bit of a girly girl, liking dresses and tea and such, but she's a bit of a tomboy, swinging on vines with me and practicing with her sword.

She's wonderful, and I can't help but squeeze her hand harder as we walk. I don't know why I do that though.

We walk and walk until it's late afternoon and Jane says, "Shall we find a lovely looking place for camp and eat there? We can always go back to the cornucopia if we need to."

"Sure. Let's do that," I say, and we continue walking until we find a lovely place. It's covered with bright green leaves, not the dark ones all over the jungle, and lovely, small flowers, and a grand view over a gorge with running water in it.

"This," Jane says, pointing ahead, "is brilliant. Let's stay here."

"Alright," I say, for I agree with her. This should be a great place to spend our night.

"Well, let's get comfortable," she says, walking about with her hands on her hips. "I'll gather a bit of firewood. Goodness knows we need to heat up these parachutes. Not-not the actual parachute, but you know what I mean."

She heads out to collect firewood as I kneel, putting both parachutes on some clear ground, and begin to set up some sort of beds for us, occasionally sneaking a look at the view we have.

It's really nice looking, actually. The sun's setting, making the sky orange, and everything is really colorful. Not exactly a word synonymous with District 7, which is grey, brown and green.

The gorge has running water that I can hear from here, and a few hundred yards away from us is a cliff. I wonder what we would see if we went there to look over the edge.

The sun's still setting slowly as Jane comes over, her hands bursting with firewood.

"Well, this will have to work," she says, kneeling as she wipes a bit of hair off of her sweaty forehead. She takes a few sticks and starts to arrange them into a little pile, saying, "Now, I'm not EXACTLY sure how to make a fire-"

"I can make it," I say.

"Oh, don't, I need to learn how to make one anyway," Jane says pleasantly. She bends over her pile and takes two more sticks and begins to rub them together, saying quietly under her breath, "Daddy said by doing this just so . . ."

I reach into my pocket and hold out a flint, saying, "Do you want to use what I've been using to make fires?"

"Well, maybe, just wait a minute though, please, I really do need to figure this out," she says. I wait a few minutes watching the sun set before she sighs and turns to me, saying as she reaches out her hand, "Hand me the flint."

I smile faintly as she gratefully takes it and she soon has a fire going. I begin to heat up the food, removing the weapons added to it, and she leans against a tree and sighing, looks out over the cliff toward the sunset.

"That, THAT'S brilliant right there," she says wistfully, pointing a finger at it.

"What is?" I say, looking up from the fire.

She smiles quietly and says, pointing over to the sun, "That there. The sun setting, you can barely see it, in District Seven, with all those trees."

I look at her strangely as she looks at it, delighted. I see the sunset everyday. My friends Terk and Tantor and I would go swinging around the trees after work and we watch the sun set before we headed home.

"You haven't even seen the sun set?" I ask her.

"I've seen glimpses, but I'm mostly stuck doing schoolwork indoors," she replies.

I nod slowly, though I just don't get not seeing the sun rise and set. I turn back to the food to distract myself from her and say, "The food's ready."

"Oh, that's good," she says, turning back to the fire and me. "Let's eat it while it's hot, now, eh? Oh, is that tea?" she says excitedly, pointing to one of the big cups the Capitol has. "Oh, what I would give for a cup of tea. Love the stuff, you know."

I hand her her cup and she takes in a deep breath, inhaling the steam and smell of it, and she nods approvingly. "Yes, tea."

I nod and we eat our meal quickly, like she said. While it's hot.

Once we're done, the sun has set, leaving a large white moon and stars in its place.

"Was that the real sun?" she asks, and I look to her from the fire. What did she mean by that?

"What?" I reply.

"The Gamemakers make each arena separate from the real world, like nothing matters outside the arena. Do you think they made their own sun for us, or did they just decide to use the real one?" Jane says, and looking to the moon and stars, adds, "same with the moon and such. Are all those real, or fake?"

"I'm-I'm not sure," I say.

"I don't need an answer," she says, looking over to me over her shoulder, "it was just a question, more of a musing, really."

Not knowing what musing means, I nod in response.

Suddenly, before we can think or talk about anything else, the banner comes on, over the sky. We both look up, and the Disney castle shows up with the word 'Disney' and glitter and music. It shows the pictures of both the District 1 Careers and the two little boys Jane and I killed.

I remain even looking, emotionless, trying not to show emotions I have like how both of the Careers are gone, meaning no more Careers, or how one of the boys on that screen is there because I put him there. I stopped him from living.

Jane lets out a throaty sigh as the banner goes down and the sky becomes only twinkling with the tiny stars.

"Four down, then," she says quietly. "No more Careers."

I nod. This means that one of the less strong districts are going to win this year.

"Let's see," Jane says, straightening. She looks to me and holding up a hand, begins to count on her fingers. "District One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Nine, Ten, half of Eleven and Twelve are gone. That means that-"

"There's us and District Eight and the girl from Eleven," I finish.

"That's only five left," she says quietly. "One of us could win this."

"One of US will win this," I tell her, for either of us can win, and I know we can. We can.

She nods quietly and says, "One of us will."

**YES ONLY FIVE LEFT. OKAYS. Thank you all for your reading and reviewing, it really means a lot you guys. **

**Good night all, and please, tell me what you liked and what you didn't like and all that jazz. :)**


	21. Jane

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. WHO IS GOING TO WIN. I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE. AHHH. **

**Here is the point of view of Jane!  
**

We settle down a bit after the anthem and band goes down. I settle against the tree while I get hit with the fact that there's only five of us left. Tarzan just said that one of US could win it. He's right, I mean, we could. For some reason, though, I don't think I'll win. I mean, I might win, I just don't see myself winning. Me, Jane Porter, the artist who rarely spends time outdoors, winning the Disney Games. Sounds a bit preposterous, really.

Tarzan should win. He's a great competitor, great guy and a great friend. I find myself comfortable around him, while I'm not usually with other guys. I'm a sort of shy person, and I'm not shy around him. It's a bit strange, but fun. He's quiet, but knowledgeable, and together we've done brilliantly.

"Do you know the names of the other tributes?" he asks me suddenly.

I sit up and say, "I heard the girls are Tiana and Rapunzel. Do you know the boy's?"

"Eugene, I think," he says.

I nod and count on my fingers, "Tarzan, Jane, Tiana, Rapunzel and Eugene."

"The end is coming soon," says Tarzan quietly. He pokes at the fire and adds, "Maybe tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I ask, for some reason startled at the thought of this life we've been living for a few days being over.

"Yes," he says, "these Games have been particularly fast." He looks around and adds, "There's . . . I don't know . . . I feel like it'll be tomorrow."

"Like you're not going to spend another night in this arena?" I ask him.

"Yeah," and he looks back at his fire, muttering, "just. . ."

"No, I get it," I say quickly. He looks up at me and I add, "It . . . it probably WILL end tomorrow."

"Yes," he says.

I nod and I look out, and I say lightly, "I wonder how our mentors are doing." We have our mentors, Gepetto and Jiminy Cricket, and they have control over our funds. So far they've sent us nothing, because we haven't need anything. I wonder if they're going to send us something tomorrow for a big breakfast before the final showdown.

Our escort, the Blue Fairy, hopefully has helped us get sponsors. She's a glittery sort of person, a real people person. Between the three of them, we should get some sponsors.

"They're probably getting us something for tomorrow," says Tarzan. He leans against a tree and says, "Maybe a big breakfast, or big weapons that can help us."

Oh. Weapons. I suppose it would make more sense to get us better weapons than our one sword and one spear. We could always raid the cornucopia, but the weapons had mysteriously disappeared from it. There was food and water, but no weapons when we went there yesterday. It was strange, but we didn't pay any attention to it.

"Yes, big weapons," I say before I let out a loud yawn. "Wellllll," I say, stretching a bit, my full tummy almost uncomfortably full (the food from the Capitol's awfully rich), "one of us best get to bed."

"I can watch first, if you want me to," says Tarzan.

"I can take the first watch, Tarzan, you need sleep," I say, for he's been keeping watch first since the first night in the arena. "You need sleep more than I do."

"No, I don't. Get some sleep," he tells me. He looks at me with this soft look and says, "I'll wake you up if we get attacked, okay?"

I smile softly and say, "Well, alright, then," and I snuggle against my sloped tree trunk.

Once comfortable, I close my eyes and say quietly, "Good night, Tarzan."

He answers back with a, "Good night, Jane," and I fall asleep to the sound of the crackling fire.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of birds talking to each other. I sit up, and Tarzan says quietly, "There's the sunrise."

I sit up straight and turn to him, shocked as I say, "Tarzan! You were supposed to wake me up to take the next watch! Did you get any sleep at'all?"

He shakes his head and says, "I didn't want to disturb you."

I don't know how to respond to that. I sputter, "Well, you're . . . you need sleep too, Tarzan!"

He smiles softly and nods toward the view as he adds, "The sunrise."

"Oh, yeah," I say, and I let out a breath as I turn and become speechless. The sun is absolutely beautiful. The entire sky is a mixture of colors, with bright orange strips and bits of soft pink and splotches of dark pink. There's yellow stripes and red ones and one big yellow blob that's raising into the sky.

"I could never be able to draw something like this," I say. I turn to my companion and say, "That's really, really beautiful, Tarzan."

He nods quietly and he stands up, starting to put out the fire with his sandaled feet. "Want to head to the cornucopia for breakfast?"

"Let's," I tell him, and I put on my jacket and grab my spear as he picks up his sword. We leave the parachutes, for we have no need for them. We're heading to the cornucopia where there's food, so we won't be needing containers for things we could pick like berries and such.

We have our spear and sword ready, just in case any of the other tributes are out by the cornucopia. We both know that this will be the last day. It's just a matter of time before one of us is dead.

I gulp nervously as the thought and follow Tarzan as we begin to walk.

We move our way about the leaves and trees, careful as we look about as well. You never know when an enemy is hiding in the shadows, waiting for us to show up so they can attack us and get us out of the way.

There's a great many places to hide, here in the jungle, and the littlest noise starts to set me off.

"Goodness, there's another one. Was that a tribute, you think?" I ask, turning to look up at Tarzan. Before he can answer, I continue, looking about, "There could be any of them, right now, LOOKING at us."

"Jane," he says firmly, and I stop talking and look at him. He looks at me firmly yet gently as he says, "Calm down."

"Oh. Alright, then," I say, though I'm not sure how I can calm down. I nod and he starts to walk again, and I follow him, keeping within two steps of him.

We continue our silent walk, and around ten in the afternoon, we can see the bare tip of the cornucopia. That's where we need to be, and I'm starting to get a bit famished. We had been eating fish and some berries after checking for hours if they were poisonous for four days and picking at the cornucopia and after having such a big meal like that last night, I feel a bit hollow.

We both settle under some leaves, checking to see if there's anyone near the cornucopia before we head in. I keep my head down and my spear ready, but we see no one. I look about the leaves and I see no one.

"No one's here," I say, and Tarzan nods as he stands up, still slightly crouched, as he says, "Let's go."

I nod and stand up as well and follow him to the opening of the cornucopia, subconsciously stepping over the metallic plates we arrived here on.

The whole arena suddenly becomes darker, and I look around in surprise as Tarzan, poking around a bit with his spear, heads into the cornucopia.

"Why's it so dark?" I whisper to myself. Daddy would know. Daddy knows many things like this, though if this is a Gamemaker's trick, I highly doubt he'd be able to figure it out. It must be a Gamemaker's doing, for nothing like this happens when it's as dark as night.

I hear Tarzan shuffling in the cornucopia as I hold my sword in a way that I'll be able to spring into nervous action if I need to. He's silent when he comes out into the dark light and I say, "What happened?" for I can see in his face that he's annoyed.

"There's nothing in there. No weapons, no food, no water, nothing," he says.

I look at him, shocked. Did any of the other tributes come here and raid the cornucopia or something? Did the Gamemakers take everything out, or did some ravage wild animal come and eat everything?

"That's . . . that's . . . what do we do, then?" I say this last part in a stronger voice, knowing that showing fear is not going to earn me or Tarzan sponsors, and now we're going to need sponsors. Surely we won't need much food at all today if this is the last day, but remaining strong throughout the Games is something that the Capitol and the sponsors eat up.

"We find the other tributes, and we kill them," he says, holding up his spear. "The Gamemakers might try to get us all together, so that should makes things easier."

"Yes, of course, it shouldn't be that hard, then, for we've all been near the cornucopia," I say. We've seen Tiana and District 8 near the cornucopia. They can't have wandered off too far.

I nod and just as we turn to go looking, we hear the pounding of many feet. The sound fills me and makes me feel small and pressured as we both look about. I say under my breath, "My goodness, what is that?"

We hear several snarls and we can see shapes start to form out of the leaves. Grey ears and spots of snout stick out about the large jungle leaves.

"Wolves," Tarzan says, and he grabs my hand and starts to run.

I stumble over my feet as my heart pounds, my voice saying, "Wolves? IN THE JUNGLE?"

"Mutts!" he yells back, and he lets go of my hand so that I can find my own fast pace. I find my feet soon enough as we rage through the jungle, and the snarls of the beasts become more apparent as they yell and pound against the ground, and I fear that their four feet will carry them more quickly than my two will do for me.

I look about, and the vines in this part of the jungle are either nonexistent or tangled around the trunk of a tree. Either way, a vine is not going to help us get out of this particularly sticky situation.

My lungs gasp for air. We had just been walking for at least an hour, and now we're running, running straight back from whence we came. We don't turn, for we can feel the wolves starting to slowly surround us.

I look back at one point and gasp as I turn back. They're all almost in a straight line, all coming toward us, closing in on us.

I gulp in a breath when I realize that we're back at the camp we had last night. We don't stop and climb the trees we have rested against though, for then we'll get torn apart.

My heel almost gets nipped and I let out a cry. A hand reaches out and I look up to see Tarzan running, looking ahead. We don't speak as the impending nature of our deaths comes closer and closer, the animals snarling and whimpering. I can practically see their fangs drip with drool as we run down across the green leaves and lovely wild flowers.

I gulp when ahead of us I see the cliff that's near the gorge. There's no way to get out of this. We have to get out of here, and we're going to get out of here either by getting sliced and ripped to pieces by wolves, which have _no_ place in this jungle, or by jumping over this cliff to the ground below.

I look behind me and look away quickly before I turn to Tarzan, my heart pounding as I say, "We have to jump, don't we?"

He stays quiet, doesn't talk as he breathes heavily through his nose. After a moment he says quietly, not looking at me, "I'm sorry, Jane."

I look at him and know that he doesn't have anything to be sorry about. He did nothing wrong.

"Don't be, Tarzan," I say, and we're ten feet from the ledge. We're going to have to have a running start, because we're not stopping to take a breath, for that will mean quick death via wolves.

"Goodbye," I say, and he smiles and says, "Goodbye, Jane," and we jump.

Heading down feels freeing. No more heavy breathing. No more scary, drooling, faster wolf mutts. I'm falling to my death.

I hit bottom, still holding Tarzan's hand, and my body feels paralyzed with pain.

I close my eyes and I draw my last breath just as I hear two cannon shots. One for me, and one for Tarzan.

**WE ARE DOWN TO THREE. GEE WHIZ. Just Tiana, Rapunzel and Eugene left. **

**I made a reference to the regular Hunger Games were the mutts looked like wolves, almost. Not to mention like I used piranhas and leopards from Tarzan, I added the wolves to be a little reference toward Beauty and the Beast.  
**

**Now, I have who I want to win, but I can make this either really predictable like I like it, or really not predictable and not follow my awesome plan. At all. WE SHALL SEE.  
**

**Thankies for reading, and please, let me know what you think!  
**


	22. Tiana

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. Righty-o, okay, guys, I'VE FIGURED OUT THE ENDING OF THE STORY. Shall be slightly cliched, cheesy and done before, but that's the great thing about Disney. You can use a situation and put it into A DIFFERENT SITUATION. Because I'm totally making sense with that sentence. Yeah. OH, and Guest, Eugene is from TANGLED. And we have to have someone win. I'm not going to write a rebellion story.  
**

**Anyways, here's the point of view of Tiana! ALLONS-Y!  
**

I'm walking along in the woods, sweating like a pig, when I suddenly two cannon shots, not a second between them.

I look up, my sweaty hair slipping out of the bun I pinned it up into, and look about. I see no hovercrafts, so the tributes who just died must not be near me. I wonder what killed them. This jungle sure is full of danger. There's many possible ways to how they died, and I haven't a clue how they went.

Still, I don't need to care how they went. It just matters that they did go, which means that . . . 1's gone, so's 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, Naveen and 12. There's two gone, and I'm not sure if they're from the same district at all. Hey, maybe they're each from a different district, and 7 and 8 had been in a fight with each other. Maybe the two other remaining tributes are fighting right now and might kill each other.

I haven't killed anyone in the arena. Yet. I may have to, though I'd rather not. I don't want to kill people, but I might have to. To win. That's all that's been on my mind all morning. Winning. I'm THIS close to winning, and now my chances have increased.

When I first came up into the arena on my plate, I looked around, and saw everyone, looking more ready and less nervous than I was. I tried putting on a stoic face, the one I usually have when I settle down to work on something, but I don't think I looked convincing.

I've been hiding away from everyone, but I've also been silently watching. When I wasn't foraging for food or building myself a hidden campfire where the smoke wouldn't alert people to my presence, I snuck around, watching my competitors. I'm usually a person who does everything quickly, willingly and perfectly, but I couldn't take part in the killing. I just couldn't. I'll probably have to now, and boy, the thought just sickens me.

With the thought of three tributes being left, I decide to head to the cornucopia, the place where there's plenty of food and water. Where there's plenty of food and water, there's going to be people. My final two competitors. The two people standing in front of me and getting out alive.

I gulp as I hurry along, my pockets thumping against me (they're full of berries), and a thought fills me. What if the remaining tributes are from the same district? If they are, not only will they both probably gang up against me, I'll have to take out both of them in order to win, for I'm sure that they're not going to attack each other unless they're the only two left. Gracious, I hope that's not the case.

Within a couple of hours, I've traipsed over the jungle, didn't get cut or eaten or killed, and I'm near the cornucopia. The structure looks sound and humanless, and all around me, I hear nothing. I look about quietly, and I see no one around me. Good. If I can have the cornucopia to myself when my competitors come, I can use the cornucopia as a defense system.

I have a dagger on me, and that's it. The cornucopia, when it wasn't guarded by the Careers, didn't have any weapons in it. I wonder if they had taken them all with them, and that's the only explanation I can think of, for who else would take out all the weapons and be able to get away with it? Surely District 8 or 7 or any of the dead tributes took out all the weapons from the cornucopia? I guess that could have happened. I suppose. I don't know.

I head over to the cornucopia, keeping quiet, just in case there IS someone watching me that I didn't see.

All of Panem is watching right now, and I probably have the camera on me. I wonder if my family is watching this at home, right now. My daddy won't be. He died when I was young. Working out in the field, he got too tired and didn't get all of his work done, nearly getting heat stroke in the process, and was killed by the Peacekeepers when he said he couldn't work after he had been out since dawn.

He was made an example of in front of nearly all those working in the fields, and I had to watch. Someone had to restrain me from going to him when they did it. I don't think I'll ever recover.

That's probably why I don't want to kill. Not only is murder just morally wrong, horrible, and it's just a law that everybody knows that _you're not supposed to murder_, I don't want to do it because that's how my daddy died, right in front of me. He died from murder. A shot to the head.

My mother's probably watching, silently urging me to win. My friend Charlotte and her daddy, one of the richest men in District 11, are probably watching with her for support. Lottie, when she came to visit me before I left on the train, had been crying and tried to cheer me up with the thought of getting to dress up. She knows I don't care about clothes, but it was the only thing Lottie knew and use to cheer me up with.

That's prob'bly what they're doing, and I'm not about to have them watch me die as I watched my daddy die. I won't let that happen.

I walk inside of the cornucopia, my dagger out, just in case anybody should pop out of it. It's dark as I walk in, and it echoes.

A few seconds passes before I hit a wall. Oh, I KNOW I didn't turn, and so I pound at the wall, but then nothing happens. I realize that the wall in front of me is the end of the cornucopia, and I've walked into nothing.

I kick my feet around carefully, but I don't touch anything. I get down and feel nothing. THERE'S NOTHING IN HERE.

Walking slowly out, I grunt angrily to myself. Why is there no food in there? Did a bunch of wild animals come and get it? Did mutts come and eat it? Did the other tributes get it? Did the Gamemakers magically make it disappear?

I frown in disgust as I walk out into the darkness, which is now sort of greyish-whitish. It's been sunny every day here in the arena, but now I can feel the finality of the Games.

That's it.

They want this to be the final day. Take away the food without making it known to the tributes so that they'll come to the cornucopia anyway, searching but never finding, and then the tributes kill each other.

I wrinkle my nose as I look about. I hate this stupid Games. I HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE THESE DAMN GAMES. They're wrong, and sickening. And here I am, acting as a puppet to entertain the Capitol.

I just want to go home and get away from this place. That's all I really want.

I sigh and head out of the rest of the cornucopia, and I see the boy from District 8 coming out of the woods, bearing a sword, looking around warily.

My instincts tell me that I should back away, leave him alone, but I can practically feel the breath of the Capitol on my neck, telling me I have to or I die. So I gulp and painfully step forward so that he can see me.

"You?" he says, "you're the other tribute?"

"Yes," I say coolly, "who's the other?"

"My district partner," he replies just as coolly, his eyes looking dark as he says, "I don't want to do this, but I'm going to have to."

"I know," I say in an understanding voice, for I know he's doing this for the same reason I am. Because of the Capitol.

"Okay, then," he says, and he starts to sidestep, and I do the same, so that we're moving in a circle. A breeze passes over us, but instead of feeling cool and refreshing, it just seems to be there to make things eerie.

I take a deep breath through my nose and then, summoning all of my will (not courage. It doesn't take courage to kill someone. It takes courage to NOT kill someone, and apparently courage is not something I have, and I wish I had it) and I rush forward, and I hope that my dagger is enough to go against his sword.

He holds his sword out and slashes it out, and I duck, halting on my knees, making them sting, in front of him, and as he brings the sword to take off my head, I reach up and stab him in the stomach.

I crawl away crab like, quickly, before he brings down the sword down on me. I'm breathing heavily, my throat thick as he falls to the ground, a look of obvious pain on his face.

A loud gasp and a scream fills the air and I look about and see his district partner coming out of the shadows, and she's wielding a big, black . . . _frying pan_?

Without much ceremony, she runs after me, and I crab walk as fast as I can but she closes in on me, and she sounds like she's choking on sobs as she brings her frying pan up, raising it over her head, and brings it down as hard as she can on me.

My head feels excruciatingly painful as spots fill my vision. I close my eyes after I let out a cry of anguish, and I wish I would black out so the pain, the pain that was filling my head, filling me, would stop.

I get another large hit to the head before I do.

**I'm feeling guilty about killing characters and murder and stuff again. ;.;**

**Anyway, let me know what you think, maybe about the fact that there's only two tributes left (and I made the two last tributes the characters I WANTED TO HAVE LAST UNTIL THE END, OKAY, SO I HAVE AN OPINION AND YOU HAVE YOURS. That is fine. Please, you can dislike, even hate my decision, but don't full on tell me how angry you are or how hateful you feel like being. I'm sorry, but that's my opinion about this subject, okay? So please respect, and nighty-night!)  
**


	23. Eugene

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. CRAP. I LOST ALL MY NOTES ABOUT EVERYTHING AND WHO'S IN WHAT DISTRICT. Oh, well. At least this story is almost over, so technically, I don't need it. **

**Anyway, here's the second to last chapter in the point of view of Eugene! (Poor buddy . . . .)  
**

You honestly do not know physical pain unless you get a very sharp knife to the stomach. Seriously. The pain is OUTRAGEOUS. I can barely talk, think or breathe as I lay on the ground. I blink and I can hear spots of thuds. Blondie backs away from something as she drops her frying pan and rushes to me.

"Eugene!" she yells, rushing to my side, falling to her knees.

"What? Did you . . . ?" I choke out.

"I-I killed her," she gulps frantically, "with-with my frying pan."

I swallow, which sends a wave of pain all over my body, and reply, trying to keep calm, "Guess you were smart to pick up THAT weapon."

She lets out a weak, watery laugh. When we had rushed out from the crowd of tributes, we had each taken a weapon and I had managed to snag a satchel from the cornucopia. I had a sword, and I had been incredulous when she had selected a large frying pan from the weapons. Of all the weapons in the cornucopia, she took the frying pan. I knew she's a bit of a girly-girl, but taking a frying pan over a sword is downright strange.

It seemed to work, though. She's taken out Tiana, and now we can hear the hovercraft zoom down in the branches. Rapunzel looks quickly to see the claw pick up Tiana's body before she turns to me and starts to fret, "Oh, oh this is my fault. I should have come sooner."

"Blondie," I say. She looks at me with big, green, watery eyes. "I told you to hang back unless I needed your help-"

"And you did and I didn't come and help!" she cries.

I gulp again and I rest a hand against the wound. My hand immediately becomes saturated in my own dark, black blood. "I told you that I would call for you if I needed help, and she . . . was too fast. You-you," I cough as I feel that the blood is starting to fill my lungs. Ugh. Blood tastes nasty. I start again, "You didn't go anything wrong."

"I could have saved you," she whispers back, and I can feel one of her small hands sliding under my head to hold it up while her other started going against my forehead, softly stroking the hair on it. It feels nice while the rest of my body is on fire with pain. This is just torture now. I wish that I would go now. I can't stand this pain, this throbbing, not dull, pain that swept over me, making every bit of me want to curl and scream. All except for my forehead.

"Hey. You're going to win," I say, remembering. Rapunzel is going to win the Disney Games. Wouldn't have picked her out all of the tributes, but she did it. She stayed with me and we worked together. We protected each other, like our mentors, Jaq and Gus, and our escort, the Grand Duke, told us to. Didn't she beat up a leopard mutt with her frying pan while I fought with my sword? Didn't she identify plants that I would have eaten that were poisonous? She did it, in the end.

Rapunzel bites her lip, tears threatening to spill over her eyes, and I add, "District Eight's going to have a victor. We haven't had one in a while." She'll go back home and do the tour and everybody at District 8 will get parcels on Parcel Day. Including the orphans at the community home. They need those parcels.

And Rapunzel won't have to work in her little house where she's delivered small, intricate pieces of clothing to work on. She can be free, and do what she wants. She'll have to, 'cause the victors are forced to have a talent.

"What talent are you going to be doing?" I say, trying to speed up the dying process so I won't be in too much pain. Thing is, I also want to do it so that I don't have to see Rapunzel looking at me looking like she's suffering even more. I don't want her to suffer like this.

She hiccups, suppressing a sob, and says, "I'll probably bake, or-or . . . I can paint."

"You paint?" I say, my voice becoming hoarse as it gets hard to talk. To breathe.

It'll be over soon. I'll be gone soon and the only one who might miss me is Rapunzel.

"Yes. I can paint," she says, and her hand hurries just a bit more as she strokes my forehead, "oh, Eugene, I'll paint something for you. You-you deserve a painting."

"Sure, if you . . . want to . . . Blondie . . ." That's the name I gave her the first time I saw her, which was at the Reaping. She had looked so pretty, walking up with her shimmering, long, LONG hair and her purple dress. She has her hair in a braid now, and it had been something she had talked about with Genie in her interview. I wonder . . . . if they'll . . . talk about it more in her . . . . new interviews. . . .

I start to close my eyes but she says, "Eugene, Eugene! Keep your eyes open!"

I open them just a bit, and I can see her face, which is squinted.

"What do you want a painting of?" she says pleadingly, as if this is the one thing she needs to know from me before I die.

I close my eyes again, making her gasp, and squeeze them hard, thinking hard, and finally, a few seconds later, say, "You."

"Me?" she says incredulously.

I nod, and though I cannot see her, I know that she looks so incredibly heartbroken that I don't want to look at her. "Paint yourself for me."

"O-okay," she says, and then after a minute, she says, "Eugene?"

"Yes?" and I say it more like a breath than a word.

"Thank-thank you, for protecting me," she whispers.

I crack a tiny smile and say, "No . . . no problem . . . . Blondie. . ." I can't talk now. I have no breath to use to talk, and the blood filling my lungs is taking up all the space that air should be.

It'll be over in just a second . . .

Rapunzel lets out a sob as I let out my last breath before I go limp.

**Dang. THIS IS DEPRESSING. AHHHH EUGENE COME BACK MY BUDDY NOOOOOOO. **

**Yeah. Yep. Depressing stuff.  
**

**Anyway, we now obviously have our winner, and yes, she probably is not what you wanted but probably expected but she's the winner, and can I say, a real sort of kick-butt sort of person. I mean, she knocks people out, she's smart and has (HAD) Eugene. She survived the Pub Thugs in her movie. *Shrugs* As always, my opinion.  
**

**Well, I certainly hope you've been liking this story, and the chapter after this shall be OH CAPITOL WELCOME TO VICTORY RAPUNZEL WE GOING TO DRESS YOU UP AND MAKE YOU LOOK HAPPY EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE FEELING HORRIBLE BECAUSE THAT'S OUR CAPITOL WAYS. Ugh. Hate the Capitol.  
**

**Please review (I LOVES YOU ALL).  
**


	24. Rapunzel

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games or Disney. OH MY GOSH HERE WE GO YOU GUYS WE'RE AT THE LAST CHAPTER HERE WE GO. Oh, and Guest (who asked about the anthem of Disney) the anthem is that song that plays when you watch an old Disney cassette and the logo shows up and then there's GLITTER AND SPARKLES and then DISNEY appears. Look up the Disney logo on YouTube or something, it should be there because it is awesome. Oh, and kudos to MysteryGirl7Freak for the ending!  
**

**Here is the point of view of Rapunzel!  
**

Eugene takes his last breath and I feel like I want to scream. Cry. Sob. I feel like I want to be so loud from all the pain I'm in, but instead, I just look at him sadly, choking on sobs.

After a minute or two, I gently wipe the hair out of his face and lay him gently on the ground before I stand up and back away. I wipe at my eyes as I back away until I walk into the cornucopia, and I use that as a support as I watch a hovercraft show up.

A claw lowers and it picks him up, and he rises into the air.

There's this sign, from the districts. It's an old sign that means respect and almost . . . like a thank you. As I watch him rise, I put three fingers from my left hand to my mouth and raise them up as high as I can. He deserves respect. He was protecting me, and he's gone because of the Capitol's horrible Games.

The hovercraft disappears and I hear trumpets play as the voice of Goofy says, on an intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce the victor of the Seventy-fourth Disney Games, Rapunzel Corona, the victorious tribute from District Eight!"

The roar of crowds from the Capitol fill the area along with the noise that the hovercraft makes as one appears, a ladder coming down toward me.

Gulping, I swing my braid over one of my arms and hold onto the ladder as it takes me up, the sound of hundreds of people cheering in my ears.

Why are they cheering?

Once I'm up in the hovercraft, I'm swept up by several white shirted people, all sporting crazy haircuts and spewing furious orders to each other. I'm put on a gurney, and I begin to panic, wondering what they're going to do. I struggle, saying, "Please, please, what are you doing?" and then I see black when a sharp pain enters my arm, and I black out.

* * *

I wake up sometime later in a white bed. I open my eyes to see yellow light filling the room I'm in. It looks like I'm in a box, for I don't see any doors or windows. I begin to sit up, gasping. At least the house I lived in in District 8 has windows and a door, though I rarely use it.

I'm wearing a bed robe, and I try to pull the white blanket closer to me, but then I see my hand, and I gasp. My fingers had been covered with tiny, faded bits of paint, and now they're gone. I had a cut from one of the leopards' claws, and it's gone. My hands are seemingly flawless. My fingernails are perfect looking, and I pull back my blanket to see that my legs are hairless, flawless looking. I look around the room, shocked.

How can I look so flawless when I'm just this little girl who survived the Disney Games? The Capitol has done this to me, and while I look better, I don't look so much like ME.

Suddenly I hear a noise and I gasp when I see an Avox girl come in with a tray.

I don't know what to say as she sets the tray on my lap. Broth and water. Sounds good. Some normal food that's not dried or foraged or roasted. Something that doesn't look like it's from the arena. The arena is the last thing I want to think about. I want the arena to go away, like a bad dream.

"Thank you," I say, and she quickly goes. The Grand Duke had told me that you're not supposed to talk to an Avox unless you're giving them an order. I hope I don't get her into trouble.

I stay in the room for several days before I'll allowed to go. My clothes are put out for me to wear to see my team; the clothes I wore in the arena. A blue tank with a black jacket. I put on boots over my shoes and socks that go up to my knees and a pair of dark tan pants. They feel slightly more tight, and I wonder why. I don't think I'm eating as well here in the Capitol with their delicious but small portions of broth and bread and applesauce as I did in the arena with our berries and meat and such.

I gulp, feeling a little bit sick in my stomach. This is the outfit I wore when I won the Disney Games. This is the outfit I wore when Eugene died.

I sniff slightly, and just wish I was home, where I can sew and paint and live with Pascal and not have to be here.

The wall slides open and I leave the room, my blonde, braided hair trailing behind me. It's just gold now. I had covered with it flowers in the arena. They're gone now.

I look around curiously. I'm in a hall, and there's lots of unopened doors. I look down the hall and in a chamber at the end of the hall there's people I know. I sigh in relief when I see them. Jaq. Gus. The Grand Duke. Fairy Godmother, my stylist.

I throw myself at Gus, who gives me a hug, saying, "You did good job, Punzie!"

"Yes, yes, good-good job, Punzie," says Jaq, patting me on my back.

I want to nod to acknowledge them but instead lean against Gus's shoulder and shudder. A tear slips down my face as the Grand Duke says, "My dear, we must keep on schedule." He turns and says, "Fairy Godmother?"

"Yes, Rapunzel, it's time to get ready," says Fairy Godmother as she gently guides me so that she has an arm around my shoulder. I sniff and lean against her as she leads me to a room.

Within a few hours, I'm picture perfect, and I feel a bit miserable. I'm wearing a pretty pink dress and soft, pink shoes. My nails are done in pink and my hair is braided with a style in the back. I would rather have my hair loose, but when I had tried practicing walking for my first interview, I had fallen when I got tangled up in it.

"My goodness, do you look pretty. They wanted to cut your hair so that your head was lighter but no, no, no, I told them she has beautiful hair that must not be cut," says Fairy Godmother, looking at me with a smile.

She looks at me with happiness but all I can feel is sadness for all the dead tributes.

I sniffle as I munch on a strawberry as she leads me to my place to go up on stage. She hands me off to Jaq, who leads me to a plate that's supposed to go up to the stage. I gulp. It looks like the plate that I stood on that took me to the arena.

"Come on now, Punzie, get on it," says Jaq, and I obey him, and he gives me a good luck hug and leaves. I tremble. This interview is going to be broadcasted, live, all over Disney, and I'm trembling. I don't care much, though. I'm about to see everyone who went into those Games being killed again. And I'm going to have to smile through it.

As my plate rises, I feel a jolt and I wish Pascal was here. He'd be able to make me feel better. He's good at that.

I rise and the first thing I see is tons and tons of bright lights. They clear, only slightly, as the sound of the crowd and cameras fill my ears and I see the giant crowd, and I put a hand over my open mouth in shock.

I feel so small as I look around the stage, and I see my team, my prep team and Fairy Godmother and Jaq and Gus and the Grand Duke sitting in their own special spot and then there's Genie, who has been hosting the interviews for forty years, dressed in a purple suit with gold lining.

I look around, and I see the night and I see a rainbow of people, and colors I've never seen before. I hear Genie saying something, and I turn to him and say uncertainly, "What?"

Everybody laughs and he says, "Why don't you join us, Rapunzel?"

"Oh," I say, and I walk over and take a seat opposite him. It's yellow and soft and big and I feel awfully small in it. I feel really small looking around at everything because all of this is for ME because I survived their horrible Games.

I gulp and look to Genie, who kisses my hand nicely and then leans back in his chair, saying, "Welcome, welcome Rapunzel, winner of the Disney Games! How does winning make you feel? Have you . . . absorbed it all yet, the fact that you won?"

"Not really," I manage in a nervous, giggly voice. "I've just been so overwhelmed."

Genie nods as the crowd laughs and says, leaning forward, "That's what happens when you come back to the Capitol. It's normal, don't worry."

"Oh. Good," I say, and he nods with a smile on his face.

"Now, Rapunzel, tell us, did you have any sort of strategy going into the Games?" he asks me next.

I sigh quietly and say, my voice coming out easily instead of nervously, "I headed into the Games with the idea that Eugene and I would stick together. I would grab a weapon if I could, and see how far I could go."

"You went far, I'll tell you. Rapunzel, if Eugene had not been stabbed at the end, do you think that you would be the victor right now?" Genie asks.

I can feel the anticipation of the crowd as I say slowly, "I'm not sure I can answer that, Genie, without lying in some way or form."

"What do you mean by that, Rapunzel?"

"I'm not sure I would win. Eugene is a great competitor," and I secretly know, in my heart of hearts, that Eugene Fitzherbert would have died anyway so that I would win. He had told me, back in the penthouse, that he was just an orphan criminal in District 8, and he'd just go back to be killed by some accident. He actually had promised me that he would keep me alive, and he said that he never broke his promises. Ever.

I believed him, and he carried out what he set out to do.

"He was, he was," says Genie. He smiles and turns to the crowd, saying, "Shall we get to the Games, then?"

They cheer and we all turn to look at the big TV screen. The people who broadcast the Games have edited down all the time that I was in the arena down to three hours. I gulp as I remember I have to watch twenty-three deaths.

It plays, and we watch it mostly in silence, though there's some random cheers occasionally. I sink lower into my chair, the soft material folding into me. I watch only when I feel like I can bear more pain. I realize, as I watch the little kids go, that I'm going to be a mentor next year. I'll have to go visit all the districts and then train one of the kids that's Reaped to survive the Disney Games. The sad life of a victor is not all glitz and glam.

I sink lower and begin to play with my long, blonde hair.

Soon the program ends and everyone claps as we all stand. I smile for the cameras, but it's forced. I've never felt so miserable in my life.

The Rulers come on stage, and the one everyone calls Mother Gothel steps forward and gently puts the victor's crown on my head.

"Congratulations, Rapunzel," she says quietly in an arrogant sort of voice, "the end of the Games was quite . . . heart wrenching."

"Thank you?" I say quietly.

"Rapunzel," she sighs, "there is NOTHING I hate more than mumbling."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," I say. The crowd is screaming too hard to hear anything we're saying, which is just in fact between us two.

"Oh, it's all right, Rapunzel," she smiles, and she pats my head, smushing my hair as she says, "can't wait to see you next year!"

She leaves and I curtsy to the other Rulers, who all nod their heads and then turn and walk away, their long coats and silly hair trailing along with them.

* * *

I get to sleep in my bed that's in District 8's penthouse, and it feels a little bit like home. I wear a tank and shorts and end up in a cocoon in the covers. I clutch my token that I brought from home. It's a piece of purple fabric with a gold sun on it. It's made out of old spare rags, though I like it. I couldn't bring in Pascal (which I never would have done even if he was allowed) or one of my paintings, so I brought my piece of fabric.

I let my thoughts go back to the Reaping and the goodbyes. I didn't get many, for I don't know many people, but Pascal, panting heavily, had made his way over to say goodbye, and then, to my surprise, the mayor and his wife of District 8 came to see me.

The mayor's wife has long, dark brown hair and looks regal next to her husband, who was greying slightly. She had said quietly that she and her husband came to say goodbye to me, though they had never really met me. They just . . . felt like I couldn't go into the arena unless they saw me. She had suddenly reached out and we slowly hugged while her husband watched, and for some reason, I felt relieved and safe, even for a moment.

I felt like someone had loved me then. I wonder now as I get into a more curled up position when they think of me winning. Are they happy? Are they glad, relieved?

I get little sleep and I wake up to my prep team in my face. I smile at their smiles, a tired smile, and they get me ready for my last interview before I go home.

As I eat a muffin as they wash my hair, I realize that I get to go home. _I get to go home. _After all this happening to me, I get to go home.

I get into a sunny yellow dress that shines and my hair gets put up with orange flowers that look like lilies and then I go to a secluded stage where Genie is waiting with my mentors and my escort.

They settle me in the regular interviewing chair as Genie drinks coffee while getting his beard done.

"Morning," he says, "how have you been doing?"

"Fine, I guess," I say.

"Hey, Rapunzel, I want you to know that I think you did GREAT in the Games," says Genie with a smile as his head gets pulled about.

"Thank you," I say, and he nods as his stylists leave and the cameraman starts him off.

He jokes with me and keeps it lighthearted. Without all the lights and noises and people, I feel a bit more comfortable. I smile a lot more and I laugh a bit more easily as he imitates some of the mentors at the interview.

Things go well, Jaq and Gus nodding enthusiastically behind the camera. I feel good until the end when Genie says in a sad voice, "Now, what were you feeling, exactly, Rapunzel, when Eugene died? What were you feeling at that moment?"

I gulp and look down at the floor and say quietly, "I felt . . . completely and utterly crushed."

A moment passes, and I assume that Genie is nodding sadly as he says, "I know. We had all grown to love him."

The interview eventually ends with Genie signing us off and then I smile, shake his hand, and then follow Jaq, Gus and the Grand Duke to a car that takes us to the train station. I say goodbye to Fairy Godmother before we enter the car, and then we're off.

We manage to get on the train without too much trouble and before I know if, we're off to District 8, which the Grand Duke says we should get to by an hour or so after supper.

I sit in my room while Jaq, Gus and the Grand Duke hang out in the lounge with their drinks. I normally love and want to be with people. I hardly ever got to be with people, but now I just want to be alone, for I have too many feels.

I lay on my bed and watch the window as we roll past the districts. District 7. Jane and Tarzan. District 5. Aurora and Arthur.

We eat and I have a lot of chocolate chip cookies and their delicious hazelnut soup, the only two things that are not making my tummy hurt at the moment.

We get to the train station and the Grand Duke and Jaq and Gus go out first and I can hear the crowd through the door. Gosh, they're loud. I take a deep breath and I step out to the crowd of District 8. They're not all yelling but they're all nodding to me, like I did something right. They're wrong. I haven't done anything worth all this fuss, but I nod and smile and wave anyway, anything to make them think that I'm happy.

Anything that will allow me to go home.

* * *

I'm in my new house, in my regular clothes. It's the day after I came home, and there's still people who want pictures and reports for the Capitol. Jaq and Gus and the Grand Duke are entertaining people in my new house, one in Victor's Village. People had taken all of my stuff while I was out of it in the Capitol and had filled my house.

I found a spare room while I wandered around the house the first time I entered it. It, or, it was, a white room, and I got a wonderful idea. I got dressed in some old clothes, grabbed my paints and brushes and I started to paint.

It's taken me nearly all day, but I'm almost finished. I have paint on me and a paintbrush behind my ear and I'm messy but I don't care. I add one little stroke, and then I step back.

I sigh and Pascal chirps from the window.

"It's done, Pascal," I say.

I look at it for a moment before the Grand Duke pokes his head in and says, "What are you doing, dear?"

"Look," I say, and his eyes widen at the wall.

The wall is covered with a dark green background with exotic flowers and iavins meandering everywhere. All across the wall is the twenty four tributes of the Seventy-fourth Disney Games, all in order of death. I didn't put them together in district by district because I know that we're not all divided district by district. We're all brought together, all the districts, in the Capitol every year, to fight to the deaths.

There's strong looking Hercules and sweet little Wendy and smiling Eilonwy and grinning Naveen and quiet looking Alice and a smiling softly Aladdin. We're all on there, Eugene and I at the end.

I want to the Grand Duke to see us all standing together. Look at us. We're all together, though most of us are gone. Because of the Capitol.

I painted the painting so that I'll never forget those people who died so that I could survive.

**THE END. GOSHY. **

**Anyways, I hope you liked the ending, and please, let me know what you think because it's really, really late and I need sleep and I'd love to wake up to reviews. :)  
**


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